#this only occurred to me for the first time last night and i started bawling my eyes out all over again

[mewtwo24]

Do you ever wake up in the middle of the night thinking about how wwx grew up in an adopted family that always spoke in terms of what he owed them (except Jiang Yanli), and Lan Wangji, upon wwx's resurrection insisted "there is no need for sorry or thanks between us" and kept to his word every single time. Or are you normal.

[kamuucab]

New Hire (Glamrock Freddy/reader): Chapter 4

Summary: Bravery is rewarded (with a very thinly veiled 'please do not sue us')

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

3209 words

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You looked down at the message displayed on your watch, blue text on a plain gray background.

Boss

Please see me in my office before your shift today.

You clicked your tongue and shut your watch off, thunking the back of your head off the driver’s seat headrest. You had been hoping that you were in the clear after Freddy’s malfunction; the bear had returned from Parts and Services quickly, acting normally and with a new polish to boot. The family had been compensated, and you had briefly viewed a report from the mechanic stating the problems with a quick tag of “server facilitated transportation to Parts and Services. You had finished the rest of your shift without another interruption, and the last two weeks had then been quiet and relatively uneventful. Some incidents had occurred, but not within your shifts - Monty breaking a few things like chairs, tables, a stroller; Roxy making a kid bawl after gloating about winning a race and calling them a ‘sore loser’; Chica moving on from snatching unattended paper plates off tables to finding secluded garbage cans to chow down on (you weren’t sure about the side animatronics, but you assumed they were doing fine) - suffice to say, there was something going on with all the animatronics programming.

A sitewide email had been sent covering the range of problems and reassuring people that a new update had recently been installed and was the likely cause - bugs were to be worked out soon and plans would be put in place to mitigate the incidents. Again, you thought you were in the clear.

But the hammer had to come down at some point, you supposed.

Grabbing your cap from the passenger’s seat you slid out of the car and locked it, making your way up in the elevator and jogging down the creepy staff hallway to enter the Atrium. The place was already filled with guests, more trickling in from the parking garage as you looked. You slipped the cap on and then took a deep breath. There was about half an hour before your shift was to start in Chica’s Bakery (void of Chica right now for… obvious reasons) and you needed to get down to the boss’s office as soon as possible for whatever he needed to talk to you about.

You were probably in for a reprimand about abandoning your post or failing to attend to the guests quick enough after the incident. You hadn’t heard of a complaint, but that didn’t mean that it hadn’t been filed well after their trip to the Pizzaplex. If there was a complaint, again, this was probably a meeting where it would be brought up.

You swallowed heavily.

You hoped that it was a reprimand. Honestly, the worst case scenario your brain was currently catastrophizing about was termination. You were still well within that six month trial period and with all the mechanical issues it could be easy for the boss to shove Freddy’s malfunction into your hands as your problem, and dismiss you from the facility. It wouldn’t be the first time an employee had been the scapegoat for a company’s reputation. You could easily become a part of that statistic.

You turned down the desolate hallway that led to the bosses room, only two steps before the door would automatically slide open at your presence, when you heard your bosses voiced. It was raised, angry, and easily heard through the door.

“I understand that the recent reports and logs are making the higher ups nervous, but that is no fault of the mechanics. Whatever update they approved is the likely culprit.”

You stopped in your tracks, frozen to the ground. A pause, then,

“The night..? Our security system is working just fine! The S.T.A.F.F bots that served customers are not the same as the ones that do night patrols. I made that clear in my email, did I not?”

The boss then lowered his voice. You could hear his tone, but not the words. Carefully you edged forward, toeing the line of the doors sensors and straining your ears to hear over the muffled goings-on of the guests and attractions.

“An executive order? You can’t be serious.”

You heard your boss sigh, in such a way that you could picture him with his elbows on the desk, pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off a headache.

“... Alright. Fine. I’ll be getting my things in order to get that done. The timelines a little short…” another pause, “fine, fine. Yeah. Uh huh. Okay, Goodbye.”

You heard the click of a landline in its receiver and then the creaking of a desk chair followed by another sigh.

“Can’t ever please them…”

You wrung your hands together, feeling guilty that you had eavesdropped. Truly, you had no good reason to listen in, but it made the bubbling concerns in your head raise upward a tick. More problems, something about the night shift was now changing. The place had seemed so solid and functional when you had first viewed it… but it was like the curtain was rippling slightly, exposing the bad foundation. Like the bad circumstances of the past were catching up.

You bit on your thumbnail, stomach roiling in your abdomen.

Well. You had loitered outside the door for long enough. Time to face the music.

You took a step forward and the sensors activated, door sliding open. The boss had been leaning as far back as his chair allowed, but as you entered he tipped forwards.

“Ah, hello.” he had the look of a man weathered by hardship; drawn eyebrows and a dash of purple under his eyes, mouth set in a thin smile.

“Hello.” you returned his greeting, sitting down in the chair that had been dragged to the front of his desk, facing him. Waiting.

“How’s your week been?” he asked, beginning with simple small talk.

“Good. The work’s been slower.” you replied. The boss nodded, lacing his fingers together.

“Yes, well, the majority of the problems addressed in the company email have happened in the presence of guests. And if I were a parent, it wouldn’t seem like the place had it’s stuff together, right?”

He laughed, and you gave a weak chuckle.

“Actually, that’s what I’ve brought you in here to talk about.”

Uh oh. Uh oh. Uh oh-

You clenched your teeth and sat up in your chair, steeling yourself for whatever was to happen. Maybe some yelling, and, worst case scenario, you’d lose your job. No longer serving tables, taking orders, seeing the gaggle of animatronics. Despite your growing discomfort around the issues the place had, you were feeling hollow at the thought of turning in your uniform.

But instead of a reprimand, boss’s face grew softer.

“I wanted to thank you for your help with Freddy’s incident a few weeks back. Heard from both the mechanic and the bear himself that you kept the party of kids safe and acted quickly to diffuse the situation. If you weren’t there to calm the kids down and get Freddy to Parts and Services, lord knows that a lawsuit would have been on the horizon. From both me and the company,” here he placed a hand on his chest, over his heart, “thank you. Seriously.”

“Um,” you were taken aback, blinking like an owl, “you’re welcome?”

It sounded like he was thanking you for avoiding a lawsuit than your help getting the animatronic out after his malfunction. Well, that was better than getting fired, at least.

“As well,” boss continued, and you clenched your fists again subconsciously, “Freddy had a lot of problems that led to that shut down. Someone had left a bolt lose, mixed wires, soldered something a little off… and boom. A stray spark fired his hardware. From what the mechanic said, he had been literal minutes from breaking apart. If you hadn’t made his movements urgent, he would have probably gone out of commission.”

A weight settled in your gut. He had been that close to a total meltdown? Even though the danger had long since passed, you relived the memories in a short second - his shuddering limbs, lopsided gait, weak and crackly voice. Oof. You were relieved that the incident had happened with you now. You couldn’t even picture him left alone, burnt out, out of commission.

“Wow…” you whispered.

“Yeah.” the boss replied.

“Due to this, and the other problems that have been happening, it seems that we need to initiate new protocols and reinstate old ones.”

Your thoughts went to the tail end of the conversation you had overheard. Meanwhile, boss was neatening papers on his desk as he talked.

“You see, way back in the day the animatronics weren’t as, ah, sophisticated as they are now. The company therefore needed staff with a specific purpose to keep an eye on the animatronics and be able to mitigate problems should they occur. They were called handlers.”

“Oh, I remember that!” you exclaimed, thinking back to the pizzeria in your youth. Whenever an animatronic would be made to interact with a table, there was always a person standing not so far away, sometimes right next to the robot, keeping an eye on it. They had purple shirts as opposed to the servers with gray ones.

“You do? Great!” the boss turned his hands palms up.

“Then I’d like to extend an offer for a promotion from server to handler.”

That stopped you in your tracks of reliving old memories, the imagined smell of pizza and sound of crisp soda whisking away back into your head.

“Wha- really?” you leaned forward.

“Why me?”

The boss smiled.

“Because of your gumption, your quick thinking, and attentiveness to situations. I’ll let you in on a little something. The other problems we’ve been having? Servers have been reporting them, but only after the problems have occurred. They’ve done nothing to stop it while in progress.”

Well, if Monty was breaking things in fits of rage, I don’t think I’d be putting myself in the line of fire personally…

But then you remind yourself that you did, in fact, put yourself in the line of fire. From what the boss had said, you put yourself out there while Freddy was hanging on a thread, getting him help. Oh man, Freddy definitely knows what had happened to him. If not as it transpired, then after as the report was filed. What did he think of you as you helped him? What does he think now? Oh goodness-

“I don’t- but I don’t think I have the skills. I’m a server. Customer service is my uh, my only experience.” You drew your eyebrows, hands tightly holding the fabric of your pants as you tried to keep the fizzling of entwined pride and dread.

“We can train you, of course. And you won’t be doing it alone. We’ll be getting a few other people in and trained up. Right now though we need to put some one in the position.”

You didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond, the idea spinning around in your head. The boss seemed to take this as hesitation.

“It comes with a pay raise, of course. And a wardrobe change - that’ll be free. And you will no longer be on probation.”

He looked expectantly at you. You tripped over your words to answer, thoughts racing.

“No, no. I mean yes! No as in yes, I’ll- I accept.” you felt frazzled by the information, but jumped at the pay raise bit - to turn it down in this economy? You’d be crazy.

The boss clapped his hands together.

“Great!”

He then slid the stack of papers he had been fiddling with toward you. You felt your face fall. Ugh, more paperwork?

Boss caught your look.

“I know, I know. But hey, it’s worth it.”

He then placed a pen beside the papers. You picked it up and began to skim, stopping at one line.

“Um, this says ‘full time position’, I can’t do that.”

You were part time right now, still trudging through the semester.

“Oh? Why not?” the boss asked. You looked at him strangely.

“I’m working on my degree right now.”

“Oh, I see.” the boss put a hand under his chin.

“Would you be willing to start full time once your semester is over? I think that’ll work, you could sign the same paper.”

You pursed your lips, tapping the pen on the paper which left small blue pen marks. Your plan was to go next semester too, otherwise your degree would be paused. But - and here you glanced back down at the paper, feeling your heart pound at the amount of money you’d be getting per hour. That was several dollars above what you had been earning there - an amount that you hadn’t been expecting to earn even a year after earning your degree. Your eyes then flickered to the boss’s face - a wry smile adorning it.

“It’s an important position.” he said simply.

You made your decision.

“Yes. Sure. After exams, I’ll go full time.” you nodded, exhaling hard as you looked down to sign the first of many signatures.

“Awesome, glad to hear it! I’ll update everything online. Your security clearance will go up as well, by the way. You’ll be able to access the maintenance tunnels and a few more back areas.”

You nodded along as he spoke, skimming each page. It wasn’t a super tall stack, maybe eight pages. It was a lot more legal jargon than before, likely because this position was one where you spent more time with the animatronics.

More time…

You only registered the implications once all the pages had been signed and then tucked into a file folder the boss had ready.

“Great! Now that that’s all taken care of, you can get to your shift. This’ll be your last one as a server.”

You nodded numbly, shuffling out after a quick goodbye.

You were going to spend more time with the animatronics, running around and joining them with specific guest interactions. Watching out for malfunctions or problems. Hanging out and talking to them.

This was not much of a problem except for the big glaring fact that this meant you’d be supervising with Freddy too.

God had to be laughing, where ever she was, sitting on a comfy chair with a bowl of popcorn overlooking your joke of a life like an amusing soap opera.

You groaned and slapped your face with both hands. Focus. Focus. You had to get through your nine hour shift. You could do this.

You straightened up and tried to take on a swift power walk, only to be immediately interrupted while turning the corner by smacking into someone.

You had been bumped right off the person upon impact, quickly gaining your footing before falling (thanks a bit to your no slip shoes), but you had still let out a little yelp.

“I’m sor-” you had meant to look the person in the eyes while apologizing, but the apology died on your lips as you had to look up to meet their blue eyes. His blue eyes.

Freddy had his arms extended out, as if he had readied to catch you as you fell. Since you didn’t actually trip they hung in midair. His face was one of surprise and alarm.

“Oh! Hello friend.” he said.

“I apologize for bumping into you.”

“Uh.” you blinked at him, trying to compose yourself.

“It’s okay, I should be watching where I’m going.” you replied, hand going to your other elbow in a soothing action, hugging across your midsection. At the same time, Freddy let his arms rest at his side.

“I would say the same thing. I am taller and should be more observant.”

Oh my god shut upppp stop being so considerate

Barely refraining from acting like a schoolgirl you said,

“Nah, not a problem anyway, I’m fine.”

“Okay.” his eyes went between the hallway and you.

“I see you left the boss’s office. I assume he offered you the job opportunity?”

“Yeah, actually. Wait, how do you know about that?” you raised your eyebrows at him, and for some reason he looked… bashful? He put a hand behind his head as his eyelids slid shut halfway.

“Well, when the handler position was brought up, we immediately thought that you would fill the position nicely.”

You felt your heart jump, hand tightening on your elbow.

“We?”

“Yes,” Freddy lowered his arm and put it on his hip instead, “Monty, Roxy, Chica, and I all vouched for you. We all have a pleasant repertoire with you, right? So it only made sense to recommend you.”

You could feel your ears burning, stomach switching from the roil earlier to a shivery, butterfly-like fluttering.

“And,” Freddy leaned down here, getting closer to your burning face, “ I realize I did not thank you properly for your aid a few weeks ago. Without you, I fear that something might have gone terribly wrong. But it didn’t, because you worked quickly to make sure I did no harm and was helped as fast as possible. Thank you. “

You couldn’t help it as a squeak slipped out of you, prompted from his proximity, his kindness, the fact that he personally recommended you for the raise-

You stepped away from him, raising a hand to hide your face from him. A high-pitched, wheezy laugh fought its way out of your lungs.

“I- thank you- I- It’s- means a- a lot- I-I gotta go! My shifts started!” you finally choked out, spinning on your heel to escape, nearly creating a dust cloud in the shape of your figure by your departure. You were sure Freddy was left there, stuck in place, feeling confused. The way you were going was nearly the opposite direction to where your shift was to take place.

Though you didn’t care very much in this moment, ducking into one of those family bathrooms and locking the door before leaning against it, hands covering your face.

Was he doing it on purpose??? You were sure he was rather oblivious to how his presence affected you, especially with how level-headed you had been during his malfunction (though that was thanks to adrenaline and an inclination to acting under pressure), but gosh- you just couldn’t take all his attention on you there, being so nice, praising your efforts, thanking you-

You put a hand to your chest and honest to god fanned your face, hoping that the action would somehow help the exploding feelings. It did not help. You were still gulping down air as your arms raised goosebumps. You were being so overdramatic at the moment but did you care? No!

There’s no way you’d survive this new position if you were forced to be around him for any significant amount of time. It would soon be you who needed maintenance rather than any of the animatronics. It was basically like you were overheating, anyway.

Why did you react so hard? You need to work on that like, right now, considering your new promotion. And control your breathing before you threw up, or something.

Thankfully, no one noticed as you got to your shift late.

[mackenziebrooks]

Stay

Summary: the reader is a pro-hero who happens to show up at villain Bakugou’s doorstep severely injured from a villain attack. 

Pairing: Villain Katsuki Bakugou x reader 

Word count: 2248

Warnings: angst, slight cussing, talks about dying, emotional, slight possessive, 

A/N: Here is another Bakugou fic that I happened to create. Decide to make Bakugou a villain but have some deep love and protection for his significant other. This is a fic that I created but felt like it wasn’t any good, so I gave up on posting it. I hope it is good and you guys enjoy it. :)

———————————————————————

Running, it was all that you could do to get away from the villain attack that had just occurred. 

The attack had separated you from the rest of the pro-heroes that were called to handle the situation. You fought as hard as you could till you couldn’t anymore. Villains were still continuing to join the fight, wanting to get rid of any pro-heroes that were left. Without getting noticed, you took shelter to try and find help. You spoke into your wrist communicator, asking “Deku? Shouto? Can anyone hear me?”, and all you could hear was just static. Meaning your communication with those two was no longer in session.

You yelled “ Damn it!”, then winced after expressing your emotions. Since you were very injured. You remove yourself from your hiding spot and bolt down the alley. Hoping to find some help along the way. Slowly your pace started to die down and you couldn’t run anymore. All you could do was walk, with pain increasing on every step. Blood gushed from your arm and the side of your head. Your body ached from the cuts and bruises it received from the fight. Hell, you didn’t know half the injuries you received, since you were in a panic state. All you wanted was to find someone or somewhere to feel safe. 

It started to rain and made your night even worse. Looking around, you tried to figure out your surroundings. You saw the street sign and instantly walked down the dark street to the third house on the left. It may look like a house, but it was secretly a lair. A lair for a villain that you knew all too well. Carefully, you made sure that no one was following you. No heroes and no villains. The villain you were going to see, strictly forbidden it. Because he wanted to be kept secret from the world.

You made it up to the steps and knocked on the door slowly. Hoping that he was home and that he wasn't out somewhere causing trouble. Hope he wasn’t the one that caused the attack and your injuries. The door slowly opened and a person came into view, but it wasn’t who you wanted to see. It was the next person in line. It was Eijirou Kirishima. 

Kirishima blinked a couple of times and spoke “ Y/N? What are you doing here?!?” He was completely horrified by how you looked. He may look bad with his scars, but this was not even close to his. You were standing here shaking and wet from the rain. Your hero suit was torn but still kept your lady parts hidden. Blood covered your entire body. This was a massacre.

You stood there trembling and asked “ W-w-where is Bakugou?”, pressing your hand into the deep cut upon your arm. Trying to keep yourself from not losing any more blood. 

Kirishima replied “ He’s out looking for you. Once he knew it was your crew and you. He admittedly went out. He took Denki and Sero with him’’. Kirishima opened the door more so that you could get into the house. As you made your way into the house, you slowly started to sway a little bit. From the blood loss and from being cold. On the next step you took, you were heading for the floor. Kirishima acted quickly and caught you, then he yelled '’ Mina!! Help!! Please It’s Y/N!!!” 

Mina rushed in and was just as horrified as Kirishima was. Mina picked you up as Kirishima said “ Get her to the infirmary room and hurry!! We can’t lose her!!’’ Mina didn’t reply back to him and she did what she was told to do. She rushed you to the infirmary room and started getting to work. She hooked you up to an oxygen tank and got all the fluids that you needed.

Since becoming a villain, Mina started to learn everything there was to know about being a doctor. Someone with brains in this group needed to get the gang back up on their feet when they got injured. Mina worked and worked on you as hard as she could, your heart rate would go so low that she would tell you “ Come on Y/N! Do not give up on me now! I need you to stay with me, please. Stay for the sake of Bakugou please!” Even with you being passed out, his name would always help you gain some strength to hold on more.

Kirishima paced back and forth, waiting for Bakugou and the other two to return home. Kirishima didn’t want to be the one to tell him the news, but he was the closest friend to Bakugou. The door opened up and it was slammed shut. Meaning, the blonde was home. Bakugou walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. Denki and Sero walked away with their heads down, they couldn’t find you. 

Bakugou ran his hands through his hair, he was trying so hard to not let his frustrations out. Though he was so close to doing it. He couldn’t find his girl and he searched everywhere that he could think of. Bakugou said “ God damn it! Where the hell is she!”, as he screamed up at the ceiling. Kirishima bit his lip and wanted to tell his leader to calm down. Since Mina was operating on you, and she needed the house to be quiet.

Kirishima asked “ You couldn’t locate her with her tracker?’’, looking over at his friend. Bakugou replied “ No I couldn’t! Somehow it malfunctioned while she was fighting. Because it only shows her last location. I couldn’t even find the stupid nerd or that damn half and half bastard”. Bakugou knew you would never leave the sights of Deku or Todoroki, so he knew that this attack was big. He needed to find you and find you soon.

Kirishima could not keep the secret to himself anymore, he had to tell Bakugou that you were here. Before he could, Bakugou stood up and headed for the door once again. Kirishima asked “ Where the hell are you going now?”, Bakugou said, “ I’m going to go look again. I do not care if I get caught by Deku and Icy-hot. I’m going to find my girl”. Bakugou put a foot out the door just as Kirishima grabbed his arm.

Kirishima spoke, “ Wait! Bakugou you need to go look in the infirmary first”. Bakugo jerked his arm from his red-headed friend and turned around. He said, “ Why should I? Just tell Mina to fix herself and whoever up. Then those low lives can get the fuck out of my house”. Kirishima bawled his fits up and looked down. Kirishima spoke softly “ It isn’t Mina and it isn’t some low life”. Kirishima slowly raised his head up with tears filling up his eyes, then said “ It’s Y/N Bakugou”.

Bakugou stood there in complete silence, just staring up at his shark tooth comrade. Bakugou didn’t even give Kirishima time to explain anything. Bakugou raced towards the infirmary, only wanting to see you. Once he got there, the note on the door said “ Medical personnel in operation”. Bakugou screamed, “ No no no!!! Alien let me fucking in!! Please!!”. He slid down the wall and put himself in the fetal position. 

Kirishima had followed Bakugou and stopped. Kirishima bent down to a knee and tried to help calm his friend down. Bakugou the entire time had tears streaming down his face, but he wasn’t going to lift his face up. Bakugou wasn’t the type to let out his emotions. He always kept them bottled up to himself, he didn’t always tell you what was wrong. He knew he needed to let these out. For the sake of your life. Bakugou said, “ Y/N, stay please. Please stay with me. I can’t lose you”.

It didn’t take long and the door opened up. Mina walked out and looked over at the two boys. Kirishima and Bakugo both looked up at her. Bakugou wiped his face and stood up quickly. He grabbed her shoulders and asked, “ Do not tell me she is fucking gone! Tell me she is still here!!”. Kirishima gently pulled Bakugou off and said “Easy buddy easy”. Bakugou did some breathing and tried to keep it together. Mina knew he was going to be in this state and she spoke “ Yes Bakugou, Y/N is still here but, she barely made it”. 

Bakugou pushed past Mina and walked into the room. You were sleeping peacefully and finally were safe. Bakugou slowly made his way over and took your hand into his. He placed kisses onto your forehead and leaned his head against yours. Bakugo spoke through his break down “ I’m so sorry y/n. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to keep you safe”, placing more kisses on your forehead. 

Bakugou sat in the chair next to your bed and asked “ What are her injuries raccoon eyes?” He may have let them see his face and tears earlier, but he wasn’t going to take his eyes off of you. Mina grabbed the clipboard and spoke, “ She has stitches in her right inner forearm, some in the side of her head. Cracked and bruised ribs on both sides. A sprained ankle. Bruising and cuts all over her body. Plus blood loss”. Bakugou winced at hearing all of the injuries that you had suffered. It was going to be a long recovery for you.

Mina spoke, “ I took the tracker out of her left wrist so that we could fix it”. Bakugou nodded and knew that he needed to tell you about the tracker that he had put in you. He knew you may be mad at him for it, but he didn’t care. Was it possessive of him to do it? Bakugou would say yes it was. Because he wanted to always make sure that you were safe and sound. That no one else was making his girl theirs. If they were, it was going to be hell to pay. 

Mina walked out of the room and shut the door behind her. Bakugou sat there and just stared at you. He was trying his best not to have another breakdown. Because he knew he had to be the strong one till you were able to regain your strength back. 

You coughed and slowly opened your eyes, you spoke “ K- Katsuki?”. Bakugou's eyes went wide and he quickly squeezed your hand. He even started to smooth your hair back, while saying “ Yeah it’s me princess. I’m here. You’re safe now”. He didn’t care that you called him by his first name, he was just glad that he was able to hear your sweet voice. You raised your hand and placed it on his cheek. You felt your villain boyfriend’s tears hit your hand. You spoke “ I’m- i'm sorry” while letting your own tears fall. Bakugou kissed your lips and said, “ Don’t be sorry my little hero, it wasn’t your fault. Please get some rest. I’ll be back okay? I’ll see if we can move you into our room”. 

You grabbed his arm and shook your head. You spoke “Please don’t go. Please do not leave me alone!”, with more tears streaming. Bakugou looked into your eyes and saw the absolute fear that they had. He knew what had happened must have put a huge impact on you. Bakugou spoke “ Princess I have…..”, but he didn’t finish his sentence. 

You turn away and face the other side of the room. You said, “ Right...because you have to”. Bakugou swallowed his pride and let a breath out. His anger wanted to be unleashed but not right now. Bakugou spoke to himself “ Not now Katsuki. Not when she is in a state like this”. Bakugou slowly climbed into the hospital bed with you and held you close. Not enough to hurt you. You turned over and cuddled up to him as he stroked your hair. Bakugou spoke, “ I’m not going to leave you, you asked me not to so I will stay. I’m not going to let you out of my sight princess”. 

Bakugo slowly pulled his phone out and sent a group text to the gang. The text said, “ I’m going to be out of commission for a while. My duties are to care of Y/n, that’s what I am going to do. If you need me just text. If it is more serious then come get me. I’m not leaving Y/n’s side”. He put his phone back in his pocket and started to hum softly. He hoped that it would help you calm down some. Bakugou said, “ It will all be okay princess, I’m going to take care of you. You're going to stay here and live a beautiful life with me. I love you so much Y/N”. 

[antebunny]

April 30: rebirth

(Also called Bargaining–idea is taken from an old Loki fic with the same time travel premise).

When Jiang Yanli dies, Wei Wuxian goes into denial and just runs from Nightless City. He goes back to the Burial Mounds and feverishly works on a time travel array. Within the month he completes it and prepares to travel back in time, but there’s a catch. He first activates the array and then spends the next several hours going through the ritual, while outside the Siege of the Burial Mounds begins. The Wens know what Wei Wuxian is up to so they understand why he’s not bothering to protect them. He completes the ritual just as Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan burst into the cave. They’re both there, at the front, in order to protect Wei Wuxian, but by the time they arrive it’s too late: the array is fading and Wei Wuxian is already dead. He barely sees them in the entrance when he dies, which leads him to (logical) conclusion that they’re there to kill him.

Here’s the catch: Wei Wuxian gets to go back, rewrite time, and change things. He decides to go back to the day before he got kicked out of the Cloud Recesses. But when time finally arrives at the time he activates the array, everyone gets their memories back. Although a lot of people will remember dying, it’s preferable to actually dying. Then Wei Wuxian has to conduct the ritual again, to ensure that this is the future that stays, and seal the deal with his own life. Basically, in order to change the future Wei Wuxian has to die. And obviously because he's Wei Wuxian, he decides that that’s okay so long as everyone gets to live.

So Wei Wuxian comes back to life with a golden core and cries for a solid minute, scaring tf out of Jiang Cheng, before he gets a grip. Then he proceeds to yell at Jin Zixuan, not get kicked out, and live life like everything’s normal. He enjoys the next six months of peace, and then he gets to work. Once the year is over, he goes on a very long night hunting trip, kills the Xuanwu of Slaughter, and sets up the cave for use. A year later and they’re at the archery competition, where Wei Wuxian still places first, meets Wen Ning again, and doesn’t pull off Lan Zhan’s forehead ribbon.

Then Wen Ruohan is ~mysteriously~ assassinated and the Wens declare war on all the sects in revenge. When the Wens come for Lotus Pier, there’s no personal vendetta, and Wei Wuxian hides in the shadows and drowns all of them. Then he pretends that he got knocked out and was unconscious somewhere hidden from the main battle where Jiang Cheng finds him. They win the war, and Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan are still alive and bickering with each other, the Jiang sect is still strong, etc. etc. Wei Wuxian personally hunts down Wen Zhuliu early in the war, before he can cause any damage. Then he also kills Jin Guangshan, blames it on the Wens (does it make sense? No. does anyone care? No) and Jin Zixuan commits fully to the war. Jin Zixuan learns to appreciate Jiang Yanli during the war, and since they’re already engaged they get married soon afterwards. Jin Guangyao gets taken in as Jin Zixuan’s younger brother, and since Jin Zixuan is a decent person who doesn’t want him to commit crimes but also needs Help, it goes a lot better. Meanwhile Wei Wuxian finds the DafanWen and they move to the Xuanwu cave, which Wei Wuxian has prepared. Also the carcass of the tortoise should scare anyone away.

Wei Wuxian sticks around to see his sister get married, takes Lan Zhan on a tour of Lotus Pier, at the end of which Lan Zhan proposes. Wei Wuxian is confused but figures that Lan Wangji must like this version of him that hasn’t used resentful energy as far as Lan Wangji knows or recused the Wens as far as he knows, or done any of the things that Other Lan Zhan hated him for. The Wens ask him to adopt A-Yuan, which he does after talking about it with Lan Zhan and after they get married. So now Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are married and they have an adopted child. That part was all the fluff and fix-it, cue the angst. The date of Wei Wuxian’s death draws near, and Wei Wuxian starts getting moody and antsy, starts drinking. Yu Ziyuan yells at him, of course, and everyone else worries over him. It is during one of these blackout drunk sessions that Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji that he fully expects Lan Wangji to regret marrying him in the future. Lan Wangji swears up and down that he won’t, and Wei Wuxian kinda critiques himself and calls himself selfish, for marrying Lan Wangji and raising a kid when he knows it’s not going to last.

Basically Wei Wuxian starts getting skittish and disappears for periods of time to the Burial Mounds, where he acquires enough injuries that Lan Wangji suspects that someone is hurting him, which Wei Wuxian vehemently denies, but Lan Wangji is still Onto him. He goes to Jiang Yanli, who says that Wei Wuxian has been acting differently ever since he came back from the Cloud Recesses, seemed to know things that were going to happen before they did, disappears at odd times and incidents that occur when Wei Wuxian is missing, and they get Jiang Cheng, who recalls that one time Wei Wuxian woke up in the middle of the night and just bawled, and after that didn’t lose his temper on Jin Zixuan, pulled back on his most crazy antics.

Still, none of them suspect the exact day, so on that day, Wei Wuxian gets up, tells Lan Wangji he’s going to train the Jiang juniors, and then just…disappears. Night comes and Lan Wangji is already worried, according to the juniors he never showed. Yu Ziyuan accuses him of slacking, but then Lan Wangji barges in crying, holding a note. In it, Wei Wuxian doesn’t tell him about the time travel, but says that Wei Wuxian is going forever, and Lan Wangji will understand why tomorrow. He understands that it’s too much to wish for that Lan Wangji won’t hate him, after how selfish he’s been and what a terrible person he’s been, marrying Lan Wangji and pretending it can last, but he hopes Lan Wangji can still look back and remember him fondly in the future. He apologizes again and tells Lan Wangji again that he didn’t mean to tarnish Lan Wangji’s reputation or saddle him with a child, but A-Yuan is here now and he knows Lan Wangji loves A-Yuan. He leaves a similar cryptic note for Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, apologizing to all of them for things they don’t understand.

Lan Zhan immediately begins searching for him all through the night, and then in the morning everyone blacks out and suddenly has memories of a different past couple of years, for most people starting with Wen Ruohan getting assassinated. People don’t immediately suspect the Yiling Patriarch, because they think he was simply never created in this timeline, and lives as Head Disciple Jiang and Lan Wangji’s husband, but Wei Wuxian’s family know better. They immediately rush to the Burial Mounds, and find it guarded by corpses. Inside the cave, Wei Wuxian begins conducting the ritual, also crying because he really had a happy life this time and he really really doesn’t want to go, but he can’t bear to revert to the original timeline, not when everyone is still alive here, so he continues. Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian find out about the whole yiling patriarch thing and jiang yanli is just like…i don’t care. Jin Guangshan is dead and can’t care, Jin Guangyao doesn’t have a vendetta, Jin Zixuan does what his wife says, and Jiang Yanli is alive so Jiang Cheng has no beef, plus he sees the lengths Wei Wuxian went through to save everyone. He also understands the letter now, then he and Jiang Yanli confront Lan Wangji like…do you no longer love him? Lan Wangji of course reacts poorly to this accusation and denies it. They leave A-Yuan behind and go to the Mounds with the intention of convincing Wei Wuxian that he doesn’t have to run away and they want him back.

They arrive in the cave just as Wei Wuxian is finishing with the ritual. But of course, parallels, Wei Wuxian looks up to see them standing in the entrance of the cave and thinks that they’re there to kill him, but also can see how distressed Lan Wangji looks and attempts to reassure him that he doesn’t have to kill Wei Wuxian! You know, his husband in this timeline! Because Wei Wuxian will do it himself! Wei Wuxian makes them fight some corpses while he rushes to finish the ritual, because they seem keen on stopping him (“i know you disapprove of demonic cultivation but this is the only way to save everyone”). Lan Wangji tackles him away from his ceremonial knife, and Wei Wuxian fights back (still has golden core!) they both fight desperately (“i have to do it myself Lan Zhan, otherwise I would let you do it”) over the knife. Jiang Cheng insists that there must be another solution, bc he doesn’t want Jiang Yanli to die. Then Wen Qing and Wen Ning walk into the cave, and Wen Qing like the genius she is, proposes the Alternate Solution. (What is it? Idk. just a magic solution in which Wei Wuxian doesn’t have to die). Wei Wuxian pauses in the middle of fighting Lan Wangji (“i don’t have to die?” he asks while Lan Wangji is busy shattering the knife and then he and Jiang Cheng pin him down so he can stop trying to kill himself in front of them. “Nope,” says Wen Qing, the only person with brains here). So Wei Wuxian sits on the floor of the cave, tied with deity-binding thread (Wei Wuxian: let me go Lan Wangji: not until you promise to go with wen qing’s version of the ritual Jiang Cheng: unless…do you want to leave? Wei Wuxian: no!) (What’s the solution? Maybe all of them sacrifice something important to them, maybe they just…all use their power to BS their way through a solution? Again, I don’t know).

So Lan Wangji unties Wei Wuxian and they hug and kiss and they all head back to Lotus Pier, where they eat a celebratory dinner, and reunite with A-Yuan, and Wei Wuxian celebrates the fact that he can live this happy life and not owe the world anything/need to go through the ritual.

The End!

[littlebitofwriting]

Better Than Revenge

Summary: you learn that your (now ex) boyfriend Draco was cheating on you during the entirety of your relationship. With the help of the weasley twins, you plan a little bit of revenge on your cheating ex lover.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader (former), Weasley Twins x Slytherin!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Cheating, swearing, this starts out as a bit angsty

Word Count: 1407

A/N: I’ve had this idea in my head for awhile. I’ve always wanted to write something where the Weasley twins help the reader get back at their cheating ex. I also love the idea of a slytherin reader being best friends with the Weasley twins. I hope you guys enjoy my first one shot on here. Please send in requests and feedback. My inbox is always open!

———

Two years. You wasted two whole years loving Draco Malfoy. You thought your relationship was perfect. He was always such a gentleman to you, giving you gifts, showering you in love, making sure you were okay. But it was all a lie. For the entirety of your relationship Draco was in love with someone else. He was in love with your best friend.

Draco was always close to your best friend, but you thought nothing of it. They had been friends since first year. When Draco first asked you out third year you thought it was a bit of a joke as you always thought he’d end up with your best friend. When he convinced you that it wasn’t a joke and that he genuinely wanted to ask you out you thought nothing of it. Later that night when you told your best friend about the date, she was over the moon for you. She helped plan your outfit and helped you prepare for the upcoming date. She was always their for you throughout the entirety of the relationship. You didn’t think twice about Draco cheating on you with her. Now two years later, you wish you never said yes to that first date.

It was a Thursday night and you just got back to the common room after studying for what felt like forever. All you wanted to do was curl up with Draco and let all of the stress melt away. But life had other plans for you. As soon as you walked through the common room entrance you spotted your boyfriend and best friend having a heated make out session in the corner.

“What the actual fuck,” You were seething with anger. The two people who you trusted the most just broke your heart in two. “Why would you do this to me?” Tears of anger, disbelief, and sadness started to roll down your face.

Draco and your friend broke apart. They didn’t know what to say.

“How long?” You asked. You had to know.

Draco looked down at the ground, face full of guilt. “Two years,” he mumbled.

Your anger grew. “Two years? So our entire relationship was a lie? Did you even love me?” You were full on sobbing now. You didn’t know how to feel.

Draco opened and closed his mouth. Your friend, seeing his hesitation, tried to reply for him.

“Y/N I’m so sorry, this was never meant to happen. I pro-“ you cut her off.

“I don’t want to hear it. You were the one who pushed me to go on the date. You were the one who told me that Draco wanted to be with me. I now see that it was all a lie. I never want to speak to either of you ever again.” With that you stormed out of the common room and ran to the only place you knew you could get some sort of comfort: the gryffindor common room.

— — —

You met Fred and George Weasley during your first year. You were on the train on the way to Hogwarts and all of the other compartments were full besides the one the twins resided in. You were a shy first year, but you didn’t have anywhere to sit so you quietly asked if it was okay for you to join them. The twins thought you were adorable and were more than happy to have you sit with them. From then on a friendship between the three of you blossomed, even though you were sorted into slytherin.

The twins were always there for you. When you first told them that Draco had asked you out they were a bit apprehensive. They weren’t the biggest fan of Draco, but they also knew that you had the biggest crush on him. The twins just wanted you to be happy, so even though they did not like Draco, they supported your relationship. But when you came running into the common room bawling your eyes out, they just about wanted to kill Draco at that moment.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?” George, the younger twin asked.

Through your many tears and sobs, you told the boys exactly what happened. By the end of your story, Fred and George were seething with anger. How dare Draco hurt their best friend like that. Fred was already plotting ways to get back at Draco. George, on the other hand, was currently hugging you tightly and trying to get you to calm down a bit.

Once you finally calmed down, you looked between the twin who was currently hugging you and the one deep in thought. You cleared your throat, causing both boys to look at you.

“Thank you for being here for me. It means a lot.” You said.

“It really is no problem,” George replied. “You are one of our best friends. We hate seeing you so sad.”

“You are so much better than that git Malfoy. He doesn’t deserve you. I don’t know about you, but I think it’s time to get a little bit of revenge on him.” You laughed at Fred’s reply.

“What makes you think I’d trust you with plans of revenge on my now ex boyfriend?” You inquired. You already knew that you were gonna allow the twins to plan a revenge prank on Draco, but you just wanted to push their buttons.

“Because dear Y/N,” Fred started. “There’s nothing we do better than revenge.”

— — —

Planning for the prank on Draco started the next day. The twins let you stay with them that night, knowing that going back to the slytherin dorm where Draco and your ex friend were would be detrimental to your mental health. Fred kept coming up with reckless pranks that would definitely get both you and the twins expelled.

“For the last time Fred, we are not going to torture Draco. As much as I despise him, I don’t want to cause him too much bodily harm.” Fred huffed at your reply, but agreed. While he didn’t care what happened to him, he didn’t want to drag you down with him. “Besides, I think I have the perfect prank to get back at Draco.” Both boys intently listened to your idea, agreeing with everything you had to say. They couldn’t wait to put it in motion that night during dinner.

— — —

You were sitting at the slytherin table for dinner. As much as you wanted to sit with the twins, you thought it would be best to sit with your housemates as you watched everything go down. You see, you and the twins decided to put on a firework show for the whole school to see, one that would definitely bring shame to Draco Malfoy, and you wanted a front row seat to see his reaction. The twins spent the day creating the fireworks while you went about the day as business as usual, which wasn’t easy as you had every class with Draco and your ex friend. But you managed, mostly due to the excitement that was gonna occur that night.

The meal went by pretty eventless. You minded your own business, occasionally glancing over at the gryffindor table to see what the twins were up to. You had a plan. Right as everyone was finished up eating, you were to give a signal to the boys to light off the fireworks. You just had to wait for the right moment.

Once everyone was finished eating, you looked towards the twins and gave them a slight nod. Almost immediately they pulled out their wands and pointed them towards the ceiling, setting off many colorful fireworks, with one in particular saying “Draco Malfoy, not only Prince of Slytherin, but also Biggest Cheater of Slytherin”. They then had a serpent firework come down towards Draco, who was already angry, causing him to jump up and run out of the great hall.

Everyone but the slytherin’s were laughing. You had made your way over to the gryffindor table, laughing along with the twins. You were happy to have friends like them, happy to have friends who would do anything to make you smile. Even when Professor Snape came up and practically dragged both you and the twins down to his office for punishment, you still had a smile on your face. There really was nothing the Weasley twins did better than revenge.

[sweetestlamb]

Bring Me To Life

Summary: Kang Sujin has never had anyone to turn to, hiding behind a façade her entire life. Someone begins to peek behind the mask. 

Author’s note: My two favorite characters in TB are Seojun and Sujin, both characters who are honestly treated like trash by the writers. I cannot begin to tell how upsetting it was to see Sujin’s character assassination or how painful it is to watch her being physically abused knowing that the writers will not give her therapy or a true happy ending. She’s just here to be beaten and vilified. Seojun, I won’t even rant everyone knows what the problem is (idk who told them we wanted to see Start-Up the high school edition.) So I wrote this after watching the most recent episode and hating most of it for these reasons. I don’t know how far it’ll go or how often I can update, but I need my two babies to have a happy ending preferably together because the visuals are just a dreammmm. 

The rain crashes down loudly from aggrieved storm clouds bellowing above her in the sky, the chilled condensation plastering her thin satin pajamas to her trembling body. She had to get out, the pain in her cheek numbing and electrifying all at once.

How dare she tell him that she didn't want to get married, want to stand on her own two feet without a man giving her value?

His hand had flown across the room before she could sidestep the blow, the fragile glass filled with water in her hand- the very reason she'd left her room in the dead of night- shattering into jagged pieces as it collided with a greater force. Just like her.

She hadn't been trying to eavesdrop but it was hard not to hear him chuckling deeply on the phone, offering up his only child like she was an item on a menu.

"Yes we should set them up. It seems Suho isn't interested and she should marry young, that's when women are worth the most."

Nausea rolled like waves in the pits of her stomach and before she could think logically, her feet were sprinting into the living room, air barely filling her lungs as she stared at the man she'd never once thought of as a father. The last time she'd made the grave mistake of calling him daddy he'd smacked her so hard that was how she lost her first tooth. He'd been father ever since or Mr. Kang. She tried her best to avoid him at all cost, she would never be good enough and it was getting harder to hide the marks he left behind.

It was difficult to remember clearly what occurred seconds after her refusal to marry a man she didn't know left her lips, his fist connected and she was knocked back onto their coffee table the sharp edge cutting at her cheek. As she looked at him, anger painting his face a demonic red, fear crippled her and her hands twitched desperately wanting to wash them raw. Then he grabbed a thick marble ashtray from the table and her instincts took over and she was out the door, running as fast as she could, knowing her life was at stake and she couldn't afford to stop.

When the cloud in her head cleared that was when she found herself at the bus stop.

Judgmental whispers breeze by her ears as people passed by with umbrellas, shocked to see the young girl crying in her pajamas at the stop, but none stopped to offer her help or inquire about her situation, happy just to pass judgement. She ignores them all, panicking racing through her blood until she's unable to breathe, choking on nothing as she twitches in the harsh air. Her throat constricts as she screams at herself, breathe. 

Breathe.

BREATHE! 

But it's useless as her body shuts down, forgetting how to do the basic function, she sways as she starts to feel light headed from the lack of oxygen and with a final wheeze she collapses. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He signs as he weaves past cars moving far too slowly, adrenaline rushing through his veins as he marginally misses nipping a car to the left of him, easily dragging his motorcycle away with the fluid movements of his body. He glares up at the sky before cursing, "Fucking weather report didn't say anything about a sudden rainstorm." If he'd known he would have stayed home, always hating the rain. It brought back bad memories.

Halting at a red light, he puts his leg down for balance bouncing slightly in place. Pulling the shield up on his helmet he glances around, recognizing the area easily, before something in his peripheral catches his attention, a lump on the ground. Tilting his head he revs his trusty iron steed to live, riding over to the direction of the mysterious mass on the wet ground. As he gets closer his heart falters, it's too evident now. 

It's a person.

Jumping off his bike and pushing out the kickstand he flings his helmet off, his hair immediately drenched under the downpour as he races over to help. As he nears the figure, it becomes clearer it's a woman wearing what looks like sleep clothes. Momentarily he wonders if this is a crazy person and if he should just mind his business but a frightening image of his little sister unconscious on the ground and no one coming to her aid flashes in his mind.

"I'll just check if she's breathing and call an ambulance. That's all, if she tries to attack me I'll just ride away." He takes a deep breath, collecting his courage before closing the gap between him and the unconscious woman.

Crouching beside her, he reaches out a hand hesitating before sighing and shaking at her cold shoulder. No response. He shakes harder now, watching the motion quake through her entire body, but still she is unresponsive.

"Hey! Hey! Are you okay? Wake up, you're scaring me!" He starts to jiggle her with both hands, before he crawls into her space not caring about his safety any longer, the idea that this unknown woman might be dead is making him nauseous. People are always dying without his permission. It's so frustrating.

"Wake up! Come on!" He shouts at the figure now holding both her shoulders and turning the woman over, lifting her face from its place on the ground, cradling her limp body in his lap. After two more vicious shakes, she starts to cough and groan in his arms. Relief swims through his veins as he watches her come back to life, anxiously watching as her dewy long lashes flutter open and he's caught in a lifeless deep gaze.

"Han Seo-Jun?"

It takes a long pause for him to register that the woman has said his name and then a longer moment to recognize who she is.

"Kang Su-Jin?" He replies in genuine shock, taking in the wom--young girl in his arms. She's shivering so violently that it's becoming difficult to hold onto her, vibrating out of his hold before he grips her tighter, whipping off his jacket without second thought and wrapping it around her. Goosebumps raising on his skin as his body mentally berates his lack of survival skills.

"What are you doing here?" She looks at him bewildered as if the stranger occurrence is his presence and not her own.

He squints his eyes looking back at her, "I could ask you the same thing. I found you unconscious here. I thought you were...." He trails off unable to utter the rest of his sentence.

"You should have left me here. Maybe I would have. If I was that lucky."

"What? Are you crazy, you want to die? Did you do this to yourself, what are you on?!" He roars at her, rage flooding his system as he shouts at the stupid girl, how dare she try to kill herself and leave her body for him to find? He wishes he had taken a different route, that he'd never come across her. He was in no state to comfort someone who was suicidal, still too raw and hurt. What was so hard about living that made people want to do that? Hot tears gather in his eyes as he abruptly pulls away from Sujin, unapologetic as she tumbles to the ground without his support.

She starts at him, stunned before righteous fury twists her features and she roars back at him.

"Who are you to judge me! I didn't ask you to help me, leave me alone!"

He glares back at her ready to yank his jacket away and run away from her but a small movement stops him, as she's screaming at him a small muscle twitches in her cheek bringing his attention to said cheek. It's nearly purple, standing out obscenely on her pale skin and then he notices the split lip and the bruises on her neck and he's so ashamed of himself he could bawl.

He deflates before speaking to her, "What happened to your face? Who did this to you?"

He doesn't know what kind of look he has on his face but before his questions can even settle between them she's sneering and twisting away from him, throwing his jacket on the ground before making her escape. Unprepared for her sudden departure he reacts too late, before chasing after her. It's easy to close the distance separating them with his long legs and within seconds she's merely inches in front of him, he reaches out a large hand to grab her wrist but hesitates recalling the bruises littering her frame. Instead he races past her, blocking her with his body swerving to the left and then the right when she tries to dodge him. They play this cat and mouse game before she finally gives up, glaring up at him with moist enraged eyes.

"Why do you care? We aren't even friends!"

Her piercing shout rings in his ears as he looks down at her passively. He can't answer that question, doesn't know what brought him to this area so late and not understanding why he was the one to find her in this condition. He doesn't know why he cares. But maybe things could have been different if Se-Yeon had someone to chase him. Maybe he'd still be alive...

So he answers her honestly.

"I don't want anymore people to die."

To his complete shock she starts to cry, tears falling rapidly from her eyes before she crumples to the ground, the rain pounding on her head and he stands still unsure of what to do before he drapes the jacket he'd rescued from the ground over her head, shielding her from most of the thunderous downpour. When she looks up to see the jacket protecting her, he almost falls backwards as her head slams into his chest, her tears simmering hot on his chilled body. It's almost painfully uncomfortable but he doesn't move away. Letting her cry on his chest, his shirt is soaked anyway this makes no difference.

He doesn't know how long they are crouched there on the ground, so dark that the sidewalk is completely devoid of anyone else, it feels like they are the only two people left on Earth.

"If we stay here you're going to get a cold."

He voices his concern but the only reply he receives is a gross sounding sniffle and he grimaces, knowing that his poor shirt is probably damaged beyond repair covered in snot and tears.

Sighing he starts to repeat himself before she whispers, "I don't have anywhere to go."

"I can take you home." Her fists tighten in his drenched shirt, he can practically feel the fear wafting off her, he'd assumed the marks on her face were from a possessive unhinged boyfriend but her reaction makes him uneasy. He tries to push those unpleasant thoughts to the corner.

"What about your friends? Why don't you call Su-ah or Ju-Kyung, I’m sure they’ll help you.” 

She stiffens in his arms before shaking her head in decline.

"No. I can't let anyone else see me like this. I don't need them looking at me the way you did, like I'm a sad pitiful puppy. I never want anyone look at me like that again."

He can respect that, he never wants to appear weak in front of others. It was easier to become angry and lash out rather than showing your true heart, nobody could hurt you that way.

"Then what? Where do you want to go?"

"I have nowhere to go. I'll stay here until morning. I'll be fine, you can go."

He looks at her dumbfounded, what kind of man would leave a battered woman alone in the rain? He wasn't raised by animals, damn it.

"Let's go." He makes a point not to touch her, their only point of connection are her hands twisted in his shirt.

"What?"

He bulldozes past her confusion, looking at her with what he hopes are comforting eyes.

"I'm taking you to my house. I can't just leave you here."

"Are you crazy? Don't you live with your mother and sister, what will they say?"

He winces at the logical inquiry, he had already considered that himself, thinking of his mother's subsequent smacks and his sister's teasing once they learned what he'd done but still deciding that he has no other choice. He can't just leave her here.

He shrugs, "That's my problem to worry about. I'm not leaving you here, I'd really like to get out of his rain. Let's go." He repeats himself harder, pleading with her.

She looks away and he's prepared to throw her over his shoulders and face the consequences when he hears her response, "Okay. Let's go."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It's a quiet ride back, the engine rumbling through the aching bones of her frozen body. Han Seojun. The last person she ever expected to see after being roused from her panic induced collapse. Her arms tighten around his thin waist as he swerves around a car, adrenaline and fear battling for dominance in her body. When her fingers accidentally brush across wet bare skin she quickly moves her hands higher, fighting the embarrassment that washes over her.

If he notices she can't hear his reaction over the roar of the motorcycle.

When they finally pull up to a small apartment, she loosens her hold on him cracking her frozen digits.

"You didn't need to hold that tightly, I wasn't going to let anything happen to you. I ride this everyday you know."

She doesn't reply focusing on getting off the bike, swinging her leg over and hopping off not graceful but effective, a small proud smile spreads on her face before she gazes back at him.

He stares back before shaking his head, as if lost in a daze before he stomps off for her to follow.

Wordlessly she trails behind him, feeling foolish in her duck pajamas, a gift from Su-ah.

When he pushes his front door open, letting her in first she steps out of her sopping wet house slippers standing awkwardly looking around.

"Stay here. I'll get towels so we don't trail too much water."

She nods at his command, gazing at the floor and seeing how much water is already pooling around her feet.

"Here." He hands her a fluffy pink towel, she raises an eyebrow at the color.

"It's the guest towel. I wouldn't give you my towel."

That makes sense, sharing towels is far too intimate for the relationship they have. That being none. 

She rapidly towels at her hair, before running the towel down her body and wrapping it around her waist.

"You can use the bathroom. It's the second door on the right. I'll bring you dry clothes."

She steps cross the doorway, finally entering his home. Before she turns back to him staring directly into his eyes, "Than.... You didn't have to do this." She loses her confidence but his answering smirk lets her know he understood enough, with that she walks to the bathroom locking herself inside.

The sight of her bruised face in the mirror makes her pause, reaching up to finger at the stark purple mark on her cheek. She's crying before she can control her emotions, tears dripping into the sink as she remembers her night, how close she was to the end despite what she said to Seojun she wanted to live. As her father stood above her ready to snuff her out like a mere nuisance in his life, she realized with a burning passion how desperately she wanted to live.

A soft knock drags her back to reality as she rapidly wipes her tears away.

"I'm leaving clothes by the door. You can come out whenever you're ready. I'm making tea."

When she hears the light steps of his feet moving away from the door she opens the door a crack, picking up the neatly folded pile of clothes. Sending the boy a mental thank you before closing the door quietly.

It's clear that these clothes belong to Seojun, draping off her body, too large for her frame, a black T-shirt with a microphone on the center and sweatpants that cover her feet as well, he'd even remembered to bring her socks. Instantly she feels her body warming as her body temperature returns to normal. 

Folding her wet clothes and splashing water on her face then using the towel to rub it dry, she exits the bathroom walking towards the light she sees assuming that's the kitchen.

"The water's almost done boiling. Sit down."

His deep voice greets her as she follows his orders and takes a seat.

"Are these your clothes?"

"What? Oh yeah they're mine, sorry my sister locked her door. They're very old though, I haven't worn them in years I thought they would fit you better." He eyes her as he says the last sentence, "I guess it didn't make much of a difference I'm just too tall and manly for my own good."

She scoffs at his narcissistic comment rolling her eyes "Tall and manly my foot. You're so skinny I could probably pick you up with one arm."

He immediately turns at her comment, affronted look on his face, "Shut up! It's hard for me to put on weight, I'm not that skinny."

He places his hands on his hips, looking down at himself before puffing his chest out to make himself appear broader, it's so ridiculous that she can't control her reaction.

Sudden uncontrollable laughter.

She laughs breathlessly, folding onto her lap trying to contain her giggles but his scandalized look makes her laugh harder and she has to stuff her face in her elbow to prevent herself from waking his family.

After a few minutes of random spasms of laughter she finally peers back up at him.

He looks just like he did outside when she'd smiled after successively getting off his motorcycle.

"What? What are you looking at?"

"Nothing. I just never see you smile at school."

"Well you never do anything worth smiling about." She quips back, wondering if she'd gone too far but he doesn't reply beyond a slight smile that's gone too fast to even be titled that, he places her steaming cup of tea before her sipping at his own after blowing on it.

They drink in comfortable silence.

She's the first to rapture the silence, "I don't need pity."

"I don't pity yo--"

"But thank you. Thank you for stopping. Thank you for this, thank you."

He stares wordlessly before nodding, a slight blush on his cheeks before he hides his face in the cup of tea. She doesn't bring attention to it.

"You can sleep in my room. It's the door next to the bathroom."

Humming she looks up, fatigue hitting her like a brick at the mention of sleeping.

"Where will you sleep?"

"I have a perfectly good couch, don't argue you're sleeping in my room. That's final. It's better that my mother doesn't see a strange woman on the couch when she wakes up."

Well, she can't argue with that logic.

"Okay." Drinking the last of the soothing beverage, she stands up walking over to place the cup in the sink.

"Good night." She starts to walk back in the direction of the bathroom, seeing another door next to it. Seojun's room. Twisting the doorknob she pushes it open, before she hears his voice from behind her.

"If you need anything I'm right outside."

Blinking her tears away, she nods without looking back, too vulnerable with his palpable concern.

When she lays her head down on his pillow, his scent fills her senses and she falls into a deep restless slumber feeling safer than she has in long time.

Tomorrow will be horrible.

But tonight, she will allow herself to breath easy knowing that someone is on her side.

[onlyfortheplot]

But... He died!

this really happened irl.I just finished reading in another life a day ago and I am still sensitive whenever IAL flashes in my mind and idk why the other day while eating a banana i suddenly remember IAL and it made me tear up ; Z ; so can I request a hcs of bois (ur choice) suddenly comforting their s/o because out of the blue they started to sobs while eating somethin' and when asked they answered because they read a vv sad story and still affected by it? tHANK YOU SO MUCH IF U WILL NOTICE DIS- Anon

Pairing: Bokuto x Reader, Tsukishima x Reader

Warnings: Slight language, Assassination Classroom spoilers, The Fault in Our Stars spoilers

A/N: I feel like I’m bad at asks because I go off topic?? But, I loved writing this, anon, please marry me, it was SUCH AN AMAZING ask! LIKE HOW CAN I NOT NOTICE THIS!! Also I never actually ready In Another Life. I don’t plan to??? Like I’m scared of reading it! But, I can tell you the Bokuto x Reader part is from personal experience because I am 𝔀𝓮𝓪𝓴. Anyway I hope you Enjoy. Asks are OPEN.

You had been warned, way before you had decided to watch Assassination Classroom, that you were going to cry at one point, but you didn’t care what’s life without a broken heart?

So, during a long weekend, you built yourself a small fort, snuggling into the covers and started watching

You were emotionally wrecked by the end of it, especially in the last episode. Tears streamed down your face as you watched Koro Sensei turn into small, elegant lights

You stayed in your small bed fort, ignoring every call or text that was sent your way. How could he die. He was such an amazing character.

You thought, stupidly, you would be fine once school started again, too busy on homework and tests to remember the yellow octopus

Oh how wrong you were.

The first incident happened when someone brought up eating octopuses, during lunch, a tear dropped down your cheek as an image of Koro-Sensei flooded your mind.

The second incident happened when someone had mentioned the end of their favorite anime. You sobbed at the thought of not seeing any of the characters anymore.

The third, and final, incident happened in front of your own boyfriend, something you should have thought of twice before doing.

You had walked into the gym, after school. Searching for your boyfriend. Your eyes were red and puffy from the numerous amounts of breakdowns that had occurred.

Your lips wobbled at the thought.  RIP Koro-Sensei

You kept your head down, as you walked into the gym, obviously sad.

It had taken a few minutes for Bokuto, and the rest of the team, to even realize that you had even arrived.

They had quickly surrounded you, encasing you in a small circle as the looked at you. Their eyes widened as you looked up at them tears forming in your eyes.

“Y/N-chan?” Konoha asked, placing a hand on your shoulder, inquiring eyes pierced you as you looked away

“Y/N, baby, what’s wrong” Bokuto asked, bending down slightly as he scooped you into a hug.

“Bokuto” your lips quivered as you clutched his back, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, the slight smell of sweat and mint lingered.

“Bokuto.” you sobbed, tears pooling in his neck, the team lept back in surprise as you had a whole breakdown in front of them

They scattered around, shouting to each other to help you.

“Get her some water.” “Oi, give her your jacket” “Do you want to buy some ice cream? ”

“Y/N, what’s wrong”Bokuto asked, voice slightly muffled, 

“Koro-Sensei is dead” you shouted, as the entirety of the gym froze giving you an odd look.

“Who?” Bokuto leaned back from you tilting his head in confusion, “Koro-sensei.”

You let out another sob, giving a frantic nod. 

“He’s dead!” you cried out, fingers digging into his back. Bokuto felt tears forming in his eyes as he watched you bawl.

“He’s dead!”he whispered, before turning around to his teammates, who gave them an odd look, “Guys, he’s dead!” 

He brought you in, sobbing into your hair as you sobbed into his chest.

“He’s dead.” you simultaneously bawled

The team looked at you both, deadpan and slightly disappointed.

“Petition to get a new Captain.” The vote was unanimous. 

He warned, quite a few times, to not read The Fault in our Stars. He told you, so many goddamn times, you would cry.

And cry you did. Reading the book, just to piss him off. Nobody gonna tell me what to do

Tears had formed, blurring your vision as you closed the book. You bit your lip to stop the heart-wrenching sob that threatened to come out.

You never expected that. Not that. 

The only thoughts in your mind was the death of Augustus Waters. He was dead.

Your lips were forced apart, as the trembling increased, taking in a deep breath before you let out a sob.

It was loud and forceful, rasping your throat as more continued to come

Drops of tears fell, promptly on your book. You were sure Kei was going to kill you for even letting anything happen to his book, but you were too heart-broken to care.

You took a deep breath as you chucked the book onto your head, watching as it landed with a small plop

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. She didn’t know who she was mad at. But, you were mad. Mad at him for dying. Mad at yourself for reading it. And mad at Kei for letting you read it.

You gritted her teeth, tears falling loosely, as you swiped your phone from the near table, quickly unlocking it

A few text messages from friends and two from Kei. You scowled.

You went into his contacts and blocked him, proud of yourself for giving him some his own medicine.

You turned out the nights, closing your shutters, as you snuggled into bed, ignoring the very tiny rip in your heart from the book. You stupid person

He spammed you through friends, making them send his own stupid collection of reaction memes. Tell me this boy doesn’t have rude reacts on his phone You gritted your teeth, as you turned your notifications off, shoving your phone back in your pocket

“And he got sick” you whirled around, hearing part of a conversation. Your heart raced as you stared. They looked at you, weirded out. You blushed, mumbling a small apology as you walked away. Oh god what was that. That’s heartbreak. That’s the tweet.

You found yourself more attentive as you walked down the hallways of Karasuno High. For two reasons.

One to stay away from your boyfriend, who you caught waiting for you by your locker

And second, well, you felt yourself on the verge of tears, every second of the day. 

To the point where you almost bawled in the middle of your science class.

“Class, today we’ll be talking about the mutation of cells.” You felt your breath hitch at that. 

“Can anyone tell me the name—” A hand stretched out, as someone blurted the answer, “Cancer.” The teacher furrowed her eyebrows, mocking an angry look.

“Correct, but wait for me you pick on you first.” The class laughed, as the student eyed the teacher sheepishly. That student was not me. No wrong Mushroom.

But you. You couldn’t care less about that student. Your ears were blurry as you bent over your desk. 

Cancer that’s what he died by. You choked on your sob as it caught in your throat. Earning her, some odd glances from the people around her.

Shit. Tears were so close to pouring out. It do be like that sometimes

You raised you hand, surprising the class and the teacher

“May I please use the restroom” you croaked out, standing up and motioning to leave the classroom before anyone could stop you. 

You walked, almost running, away from the classroom, trying very hard to hide the sobs that you wanted to release.

“Y/N.” a gruff voice made you stop in your tracks as blonde hair peeked into your sight

“Tsukki?” you questioned, your voice cracked as you looked at him. He was panting, slightly, as he glared at you. But, you could see the anxiousness in his eyes.

“Y/N, what the—”

“Kei,” you sobbed, throwing your arms over his neck, “Kei.”

He backed away, surprised at first, but soon rested his hands on your waist pulling you towards him.

“I hate you.” you hissed, tears pouring down your cheeks as you looked up at him, “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate—”

He slammed a kiss onto your mouth, eager to shut you up I wanna be shut up now

“You read the book didn’t you.” he smirked, as you glared at him in all your anger

“I told you—”

“Shut up you useless excuse of a dinosaur.” you snapped, burrowing your face into his chest.

He smiled, stroking your hair as you sobbed into his chest, murmuring small phrases as you blabbered to him

“Ms. Y/N may I ask what you and Mr. Tsukishima are doing in the hallway?” Oh good Lord, you were screwed.

[awesomerextyphoon]

A Warrior’s Heart | Phase 1: Welcome – 3

A Hero’s Welcome?

Summary: When someone with a connection to Steve’s past dies, he’s reminded of the promise he made to Dr. Erskine and whether or not he’s failed. Can Ife help him see that he hasn’t?

Characters: Steve Rogers, Ifekerenma ‘Ife’, Abraham Erskine (mentioned), Marlene Erskine (mentioned), Nick Fury, Eliza Maza, Azeneth Ramirez

Main Pairing: Stucky x Black!OFC (Ifekerenma ‘Ife’)

Rating: 18+/Explicit

Word Count: 5,801

Warnings: Depression, Talk of Death, Slightly Cynical Steve, Politics, Smutty Thoughts

A/N: I’m sorry that this so long. I really wanted to try something different with Erskine and the time around CA:TFA. Also, I wanted to explore how Steve would be feeling right after AoU (little bit of a downer, but it will get better). Furthermore, this story will diverge a bit from MCU in terms of Steve’s and Bucky’s abilities. Feedback is welcomed and greatly appreciated. Dividers were by the lovely @firefly-graphics​. Thanks to @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ for the beta!

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

<<Previous

Early June 2015

“What do you have to report, Ifekerenma?”

Ife pursed her lips together,”Wanda is doing well with her training. Djamila and Nazaret had some sung her praises during their first session.”

It took a few days to convince the team and Fury to let her friends train Wanda. Luckily Nat had her back and Wanda was able to show the compound how much she improved from what Ife was able to teach her. Unfortunately, Azeneth was unable to make it due to being tied up with a BNA mission and relocating to the NYC division.

“That’s good to hear. Have you made made any progress with the others?”

Ife’s eyes casted down in thought. Vision was a no-go for now. Pietro was warming up to her, but he thought she was still suspicious (wasn’t wrong). She didn’t want to try Rhodey yet (too close to Tony). Nat was..difficult; she’ll try again later.

“I’m going to try Steve next. He seems like a safe bet, even with the serum. Hopefully, he won’t catch before it’s time. I will need Erskine’s folder though.”

Eliza’s lips turned upward in a small smile, “Agreed. I’ll have it sent to you within the hour. Best of luck, Ife.”

And with that, Ife got dressed and headed towards the common room.

  Steve leaned back and clasped his hands together behind his head in thought and vexation.

The 21st century must be fucking with him.

Right after Operation ‘Captain Briar Rose’, Steve went to Brooklyn. He could barely find any trace of his old neighborhood. The apartment complex where he and his mother lived was now a ritzy condominium with a Starbucks on the ground level.

All of the places he’d go with Bucky were now soulless veneers filled with empty promises of ‘happiness’ or ‘self-esteem’.

He remembered the time Bucky bailed him out of yet another beating by Arnie and his gang back in 1928. His mother berated him for getting in yet another fight while Bucky’s mom laughed and treated them to ice cream from the local sweets parlor. Bucky’s sisters – Rebecca, Rose, and Annabelle – were making a fuss and bursted out in giggles when Annabelle got ice cream in Bucky’s hair. It was one of the best days that year.

A T-Mobile now stands in its place.

All of his friends and comrades save Bucky and Peggy are dead; he nearly bawled in the middle of briefing when found out that Timothy ‘Dum Dum’ Dugan died and had a cry alone in his quarters afterwards.

Felt shitty about the current state of the country. It seemed as though everything has gotten worse. He found out about the Gulf, Afghanistan, and Iraq Wars. How income and wealth inequality has somehow gotten as bad as, if not worse, than the Gilded Age. Corruption has turned DC and NYC into dog and pony show.

He was furious at all of the politicians and corporations that wanted him to endorse them or their actions. They wanted Captain America’s helmet and shield to mask their heinous acts. They were the same if not worse than Senator Brandt.

Some days Steve wished SHIELD let him stay in the ice. Even worse, there were days he felt that Captain America was for an America that never was.

Nowadays, he felt even more like an anomaly.

It started when he got out of the ice. He felt a lot stronger and faster; only Thor knew the extent of it and he has to hold back a lot when fighting for fear of government asking for more of his blood. Though he suspected Ife and Natasha might be onto him.

He was a lot hungrier than before he went on ice as well. Often time, he would have late night ‘dinners’ (now it's every night), To be honest, he was a bit embarrassed at how much he ate, though the thought of pinning the blame on Ife did cross his mind. It wouldn’t work due to Ife almost never eating with the team and Sam said that he would know if Ife was the culprit. Steve suspected that Ife has been using her connections to restock the food between when he retired to his quarters and before the rest of the team came for breakfast. Also, she kept leaving him fun pop culture facts and media recommendations for the night.

Steve didn’t feel he could go to Dr. Cho since he doubted she had anything to go on in his case.

He did wonder if Ife could help him. She seemed to like helping the team and she was knowledgable about Non-Humans. Wanda’s rapid improvement in her powers and control bolstered his decision.

Sighing, Steve sat up straight in his chair and picked up the letter he received that morning. Marlene Philomena Erskine had passed away and he was invited to her funeral.

It was sad to have yet another link to his past slip from his grasp.

  Steve was finishing up another book to fight off his jitters. It was the night before the operation and he needed to have a few moments of respite from the war.

He was so engrossed in what he was reading that he failed to notice Dr. Erskine entering.

Erskine, for his part, was eyeing several books in Rogers’ makeshift bookshelf: They Odyssey, Of Mice and Men, Murder on the Orient Express, Tender is the Night, Their Eyes Were Watching God, Homage to Catalonia, and To Have and have Not.

“What do you think of the book?” Erskine asked as he sat across the startled recruit.

“Just finished. Y’think it wise to get buzzed before a major operation, sir?” Steve noted when he saw the bottle and two shot glasses on the bed.

Erskine chucked, “Calms my nerves a bit. What did you think of the book?”

Steve pressed his lips together for a moment, “It was a good read. The book had a lot of good points for something written eleven years ago.”

“What truths?”

“Well, for one thing, how technology is used to make the populace happy, but not better. The World Government found a way to get people to willingly trade self-expression, self-awareness, and their happiness for cheap happiness and comfort. Makes you wonder if the US was next, you know?”

Erskine was taken aback by his answer. It was much deeper than most of commanding officers gave if they even read the book.

Though that last sentence was interesting.

“What do you mean next?”

“Isn’t that what happened in Germany?”

Erskine sighed, “Yes and no. Most people here think Hitler came out of nowhere, but he didn’t. Not everyone in Germany was for WWI. There was a 100,000 person march in Berlin, but it didn’t matter since the Social Democratic Party failed to rise to the occasion and went along with war effort. Many were scapegoated for Germany failure, Matthias Erzberger for instance.”

“What about the Weimar Republic?”

Once again, Erskine was taken aback by Steve’s knowledge, “Weimar Germany was a great place to be creative, curious, and make new discoveries. I met my wife, Greta, in Berlin during that time. I made a lot of friends, friends I had to leave behind.”

Erskine frowned as his face darkened,”The terrible thing, my friend, was not that Hitler was dangerous, it was that either people didn’t take him as the threat he was or they wanted to use him for their own ends. The cops and judges sympathized with the Nazi Party to get one over the Socialists and Communists. Industrialists wanted to make money off of the Nazis getting into power. Even the German and International newspapers didn’t cover him with the urgency required.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Ja, and it almost happened here, didn’t it?”

Steve nodded in reference to the America First movement and the German American Bund. He still remembers getting the crap beaten out of him by the Silver Shirts when he spoke out against them a few years ago.

“So why did you choose me?”

“I suppose that is the best question.” Erskine admitted while glancing at Steve’s bookshelf, “What do you think of the Odyssey?”

Steve shrugged, “The adventures were fun, but they were just fantasy.”

“They may not be, Mein Freund. How old do you think I am?”

“Uh, mid sixties?”

Erskine laughed, “You’re too kind. I will be 94 this September,” he smiled noting Steve’s shock, “Things are not always as they seem. I come from a long line of ‘healers’ dating back to before Rome. One of them was able to ‘make a man more’. They inspired me to go into this profession.”

“Making super soldiers?”

“Medicine and bio-chemical engineering.”

“Oh”

“Did you know that you will not be first to undergo this?”

“Who was?”

“His name was Konrad Jager. He was a lot like you: small, frail, but had a great deal of courage and compassion. He was willing to fight Nazis in the streets knowing he’d lose. One day in 1930, his parents begged me to save him as the doctors had given up all hope.

I was woking on a serum that would make the body impervious to all diseases rather than wait for the next outbreak to occur. I thought it would propel the medical field.

The trial worked and he was healed. He became much taller and broader in size as a result.”

Erskine pulled out a picture of himself next to a tall, well-built young man.

“That’s Konrad isn’t it?”

“Yes. I was able to help eight more people through the earlier version of the serum. All but one turned out well.”

“What happened to the one?”

“Ah yes, Eren Kant. He was a shy young man before the serum, but then became more like Hodge: a philander, arrogant, and bit of a bully with a temper. He ‘grew too big for his britches’ as one would say and was arrested by the Munich police. He let his arrogance blind him and he escaped in a way that intrigued Der Fuhrer and was taken to Berlin soon after. By this time, rumors had spread of my work and the Nazis were anxious to be the ‘best of the Aryans’. They were able to get my whereabouts from Eren and sent Schmitt to fetch me, but I was already on my way to Switzerland when he reached my home.”

“How did he get you?”

Erskine slightly jerked his head to the side and back, “A year prior to my attempted escape, I met a man in Geneva who warned of the dangers that lied in Berlin. He gave me his card if I needed to escape. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have waited so long before I made the phone call. I was tipped off by an old colleague of Eren entering Nazi custody.

Everything was set. My family and I were to enter Switzerland by crossing Lake Constance. We made it to Meerburg and the lake was in sight when Schmitt and his agents cut us off.

Schmitt believed that there was a power left behind by the gods. He believed himself to be a leader of a new race of men. He wanted me to ‘perfect the serum’, make him stronger than Eren. He had my children, Klaus and Marlene, taken to the outskirts of town as insurance implying that they would be sent to Dachau if I should fail.

I stalled for as long as I could hoping Schmitt would forget about me, but it was not meant to be. A few years after I was taken hostage, Schmitt stormed into my lab and pointed a gun to Greta demanding I give him the serum.”

“Did it make him stronger than Eren?”

“It did, but it had...side effects. The serum was not ready. Schmitt’s skin turned red and his face became so disfigured that Hitler called him the Red Skull. He killed Greta with his bare hands,” Erskine wiped away a few tears, “and ordered Marlene and Klaus to be sent to Dachau while I was banished to the dungeons.

Fortunately, Agent Carter and the SOE were able to save Marlene and myself. Though Klaus sacrificed himself when the agents could only save one of them.”

“Your son is a hero.”

“I only wish I could’ve told him that myself. But, back to your original question. I chose you because, like Konrad, you are a weak man. You see, the serum amplifies everything; good becomes great and awe-inspiring, bad becomes worse and a nightmare. Men who are strong their entire lives often do not value strength and abuses it. However, a weak man who is compassionate and brave will use it to help others. You were chosen because you had the aforementioned virtues and because you use your mind.

The world does not need perfect soldiers, look where that has gotten us. No, what we need right now are good men.”

Erskine poured out two shots and gave a glass to Steve.

Steve raised his glass, “To the little guys.”

The liquor was just about to touch his lips when Erskine snatched the glass from him, “What are you doing? You have an operation tomorrow. No fluids.”

Steve chuckled as Erskine bid him farewell and good luck tomorrow.

  Ife found Steve in the Common Room hunched over a chair with a letter in his hands. Emotional echoes of gloom came off in waves as she approached him.

“Whatcha looking at, Steve?”

When Steve didn’t respond, she gently placed a hand on his shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

Steve finally turned to Ife, “I received an invite to a funeral. It’s for Marlene Philomena Erskine, Dr. Abraham Erskine’s daughter.”

Ife nodded in understanding; he feels that he failed Marlene by not protecting Dr. Abraham Erskine.

But in fact, he didn’t fail her.

She lived quite the life for a human.

Not long after her father’s assassination, Marlene became a badass mechanical engineer and physicist. Her designs and schematics for transportation vehicles and energy storage/distribution gave the colonizer nations a fighting chance during the Wars Against Colonialism.

Though part of it was because the UA was a little cocky at that point. Marlene sure lit a fire under their ass! Ife can still hear her Aunt Eziamaka pouting at the news of one of UA bases nearly falling into their control.

Marlene’s assistance with the war effort didn’t last long as her gratitude towards the people who saved both her and her father wasn’t enough to overlook the Military’s treatment of some her colleagues.

Her life from there was pretty standard. She became a professor at MIT, got married and had a few kids.

BNA took her off the ‘humans of special interest’ list in 1971.

Thinking back on it, Marlene may have had a better life by her father not making it past WWII.

Though Ife thought it would be wise not to mention this to Steve.

“When is the funeral?”

Steve didn’t raise his head, “It’s in a week.”

“In that case, might I accompany you?”

“Yes...and thank you.”

“No Problem! See you later.” Ife wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug and went on her way leaving Steve slightly bewildered.

  Steve didn’t know what to make of Ifekerenma.

She was always asked the team how they were feeling at what seemed to be the right moment. Shoot, she even talked to custodial staff that few of ever acknowledge. Compassionate to nearly everyone, especially the child hostages during the last mission.

She’s nerdy to the point of Sam jokingly calling her a weeb (anime lover?) when she walked around in an oversized Cowboy Bebop t-shirt once. Wanda mentioned a ‘digital friend’ in her room and caught her mentioning how slow Stark’s tech was much to the amusement of team at Tony’s expense.

Steve’s certain Nat sent Clint a video of the whole thing.

Also, she was what Sam called a ‘Supreme Chef’. He contently patted his midsection remembering the feast she prepared for the team last night. Her cooking would’ve put some of Stark’s gourmet chefs to shame. She asked the team what they liked and she ended up having to create a dinner rotation. Steve was especially touched when she went to an antique bookstore for a recipe that was close to what his mother would’ve made for him.

Furthermore, she would leave out little homemade treats/ snacks at night. Pietro and Sam would sneak some when they thought no one was looking. She even giggled when he accidentally let out a huge belch after an amazing dinner a couple nights ago saying it’s a sign of thanks on her home planet, Avlenia.

Ife always called him Steve; not ‘Captain’ or ‘Cap’ or even ‘Good ol’Century Virgin’ (damn it, Tony!). She never made light of him ‘taking an ice nap’ or asking him about the 1940s in a demeaning way like some reporters and ‘little upstarts on social media’. Somehow, Ife found out about his love of drawing and got him art supplies with a list of recommended artists

She made him feel more like a person and not a symbol or a far off figure who’s emotionless.

Steve felt warm whenever he was around her in a way not unlike Bucky or Peggy though much more like Bucky. She seemed to sense that he was desperate to truly be seen in way that only Sam and sometimes Nat has.

It also didn’t hurt that she was a total knockout. He had the, ahem, pleasure of seeing her out of her uniform and training outfits a few times. She usually wore clothes that were more on the modest side...except for that one time when she wore a Sailor Moon crop top and high-waisted shorts as a dare from Nat. Half of the compound was staring and Steve spent most of the day in his quarters nursing a hard on he was so aroused.

And yet, Ife was one of the toughest women he knew; even Nat was a little scared of her (at least, he thinks). She might be the strongest person physically and she doesn’t take shit from people who badmouth her or the team; Agent Roussel learned that the hard way.

All in all, Ife was...something else, someone he wanted to get close to.

  The day of Marlene’s funeral started out well enough.

Ife spent the early morning making Sam’s request of cinnamon rolls, sausage, omelettes, waffles, and hash browns since he won the raffle of Vision’s turn as he doesn’t eat.

She was handing out everyone’s first servings (didn’t care what happened afterwards) when she felt Steve’s emotional echoes of depression, melancholy, and despair noting how his eyebrows furrowed and how tense his body language was.

She just hoped she could get to him.

  Steve was walking to garage hoping his outfit wasn’t too much.

Nat somehow convinced him into wearing a Highbridge Black Custom Suit with an Eastley Dobbey Blue Shirt, a Black Solid Tie, a Navy Blue Pocket Square, and Ink Black Dress Shoes.

He ‘upped the swoon dial’ as Nat put it. Could’ve sworn he heard Sam snickering.

Steve reached the entrance hoping not to keep Ife waiting when he heard clicking of heels behind him.

He turned around to find Ife looking almost unearthly.

She was wearing a black Ankara (?) dress with a cape that was black on the outside and golden on the inside with various blue, silver, and khaki rectangle clusters. Her hair was mostly contained in a wrap with a few strands framing her lovely face. Her full, plump lips were coated in a Light Plum (?) Matte Lipstick and she wore minimal gold eye shadow.

Her outfit did a splendid job of hinting at her voluptuous curves without needlessly flaunting them like the women who throw themselves at him at press tours.

Ife smiled at him and asked which car were they taking.

Steve motioned to one of the Black SUVs and the two of them strapped in for the three hour car ride.

  Ife sighed and gazed out the window at the scenery. Neither one of them had said anything in the past twenty minutes. Steve wasn’t a fan of most of the music that’s on the radio despite Sam’s best efforts. Ife had to break out her puppy dog eyes to get him to let them listen to some instrumental music from her favorite movies.

It seemed that they weren’t going to say anything until Steve cleared his throat.

Ife, not wanting to suffer in silence, decided break it, “How did you know Marlene?”

Steve raided his eyebrows for a split second, “I didn’t. I just feel like I should pay my respects, you know? I mean, I should attend the daughter of the man I failed’s funeral.”

The last sentence struck a chord with Ife. Emotional echoes of despair hit her like a tsunami.

Tentatively, Ife continued, “How did you fail Erskine?”

“I-I don’t think I’ve fulfilled my promise to him. The country has changed so much since I was on ice. It’s funny; I thought that Brave New World would only have a one of two aspects come to life, but I didn’t see nearly the whole book being right.”

Ife didn’t argue with the last two points. The US was nothing but a never-ending commercial sometimes. People were too busy being ‘happy’ or trying to get the newest thrill to realize that they were living in a sham of a republic.

Though she was concerned about the first sentence.

“What was the promise you made to Erskine? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Steve turned slightly, “To be true to who I am; a good man, not a perfect soldier. To be more like Konrad.”

Ife nodded musing on his answer. Erskine would want everyone he helped to be a good person considering the dangers of such power.

Though she wondered if she knew Dr Abraham’s full history.

Abraham Erskine came from a long line of Homo Magis who specialized in Alchemy . He turned to science when it was clear that his magical powers would never manifest (being only 1/16 Homo Magi). Erskine started working on what would become the Super Soldier Serum in 1920 after the witnessing the horrors of WWI firsthand as a medic.

He made a breakthrough in 1927 when he found what looked to be an old power cell in the attic of his childhood home. Turns out it was a modified Atlantean battery dating back to the 1600s, but whatever.

Konrad Jager was the first of nine volunteers; most of whom went on to fight in the Spanish Civil War with the International Brigades and be part of the German Resistance’s Special Forces during WWII.

Needless to say, they were recruited into BNA’s European Division.

Only Eren Kant was deemed a failure in the end.

Ife shook her head at the info in Erskine’s folder.

Eren was pompous dumbass who broke himself out jail by bending/breaking the bars of his cell after getting arrested for being a player and bully by the Munich Police in August of 1935. His show of superhuman strength got Erskine’s work onto the Hitler’s radar. BNA had to send a cleaner to ‘handle’ Eren before he could get everyone in even more trouble.

She wondered if Konrad and the others would make an appearance.

“What do mean by not staying true to yourself?”

Steve sighed, “It seemed a lot easier to do so in my time.”

Ife wanted to go further, but she couldn’t. Steve was punishing himself up for something he couldn't control and it was tragic.

She hoped that she could actually help him, not for the mission, but for himself.

  They arrived at the venue twenty minutes early. Steve was trying (failing) to fix his tie while Ife was looking as glamorous and poised as can be.

Sensing Steve’s unease, she gave his hand a comforting squeeze, “You’ll do fine,” she whispered as she fixed his tie while not trying inhale his delicious natural scent like a creep (again).

“Let’s go inside.”

  Everyone seemed to stop what they were doing when they entered the venue. Though Ife had to hand it to the guests; no one asked Steve for an autograph or a selfie. She noted several BNA officials and a couple of Earth-based Non-Human big wigs in attendance.

Guess Marlene was popular.

“Ife!” Azeneth shouted as she strode over to from a corner and enveloped her in a hug.

“Azeneth, how are you? I didn’t think you would be back from Mexico City so soon.”

“Well, the mission was short and they wanted me in New York to accompany Eliza here. Now, who is this fine gentleman, Ife?” Azeneth queried while Steve started shifting uncomfortably.

“This is Steve Rogers, one of my new teammates and Ca-”

“Captain America. I know, Ife. I was jesting.”

Ife sighed dramatically while rolling her eyes, “Steve, this is Azeneth. She’s one of my best Earth-based friends.”

“Kickass friend.” Azeneth corrected, “How are you liking Ife? She’s not too much trouble.”

“Stop it, ‘Aze!” Ife playfully hit Azeneth’s shoulder, “Feel free to ignore her, Steve.”

“Hmm, no. I don’t think I will, especially after the stunt you pulled on the first day at the compound.”

Azeneth burst out laughing at Ife’s shocked expression and Steve’s sly grin. She probably would’ve kept goin if not for Eliza cutting into their conversation.

“Excuse us, Mr. Rogers. I’ll have to speak with Ife for a moment. My name’s Eliza Maza, by the way.”

  Once they were out of Steve’s line of sight (Azeneth was keeping him busy), Eliza activated a noise canceller.

“So did anyone die in the attack on the Magic Council?” Ife asked as she made sure Steve wasn’t looking at them.

“No one was harmed, but several books are missing from the library.”

“Shit! Okay. Well, would Dr. Strange be available to assist Wanda with her training? Wong and Nazaret are at the Sanctum and he said that he knew of some spells that could help.”

“I’ll look into it. I should have an answer in a week”

“Okay.”

“Ife, please give me a call when you get back to the compound.”

Ife eyed Konrad Jager, Gregor Eisenberg, Sonje Decker, and Lukas Denhart making their way to Steve. She hoped they weren’t going to drop an info bomb on him today.

“I will.”

  The service was short and sweet as Marlene didn’t want everyone to be bored to tears on her behalf. The crowd got a laugh out that joke.

Afterwards, Marlene granddaughter, Zahara, requested if Steve could stay for a bit. She gave him a beautifully wrapped package.

“My grandmother wanted you to have this. She saw you fighting in the Battle of New York and knew you would know what to do with it.”

“It would be an honor, Miss.”

  Ife thought about her earlier conversation with Steve on the say back. She realized what’s happened to Steve was heartbreaking.

Here was a man who gave up everything for a country that only wants him as a cudgel for their heinous deeds. Someone who, if he hadn’t fallen into the ice, would’ve probably been ruined by the same country he swore to protect. They would’ve labeled him as a communist and destroyed his good name for not immediately getting on board with the next war.

To be honest, Ife didn’t think much of Steve before joining the team. She thought he was just the banner boy for colonizers to feel good; he was the reminder of that brief moment when the US was totally the bad guys (totally being the operative word).

But now?

She saw the toll the helmet and shield had on him. Ife doubted he knew that he was going to be alive for awhile judging how neither Konrad or the others aged a day since they received Serum 1.0 and Steve supposedly got one that was at least 3x as powerful.

She wanted to comfort him somehow, but she was lost on what to do.

When she got back to the compound, she gave Steve a hug and went straight to her quarters to call Eliza.

“Eliza. I can’t do this by myself, and if we’re going to pull this off, I’m going to need some serious backup because the Avengers need some serious help.”

  Fury was going through some mission reports when he heard a knock on his door.

“Come in.”

Oddly enough, Ife was the one to enter the room and not Maria Hill.

“Good Evening, Fury. I have someone who would like speak with you.”

“Well, give me a name and contact info and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Actually,” Ife reached in her pocket for a disc, “I can do you one better.”

Ife tossed the disc into the air and a moon-door portal formed from it. Out came Eliza, Azeneth, and Angela in her gargoyle form.

Eliza gave Ife a quick nod and turned to Fury, “Good Evening, Nicolas Fury. My name is Eliza Maza and we’re from the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs or BNA. I would advice that you lower your weapon. It won’t do you a lick of good,” Fury lowered his gun,” Good. Put Maria Rambeau on speaker, we need to talk.”

  -Somewhere in France-

 Maeve was enjoying her brunch while watching the footage of Eliza officially making contact with new SHIELD and SWORD.

“Well, it looks like it’s time to ‘get the band back together’ as the kids would say.” She chirped to the woman across the table.

“That expression pretty much died in the 90s. No ‘kid’ uses that phrase anymore.” Koronis deadpanned.

Maeve scoffed, “Anyone born after 1800 is a ‘child’ to me. This is what I get for trying not to sound like ‘an old hag’ as you put it.”

“Well, is everything on track?”

Koronis, or Carol, closed her eyes for few seconds, “I see nothing standing in our organization’s way. However, we should have the meeting sooner rather than later.”

“Duly noted. Anything else?”

“The new variable, Ifekerenma, will be more useful to our plans than I originally anticipated.”

“Oh, I do love surprises! I mean, I know how it will end, but I still like to be at least a little surprised. I knew it was a good idea to let Klaue be discovered by Ultron in Istanbul!”

Another woman walked up to the pair,”You wanted to see me, Mistress?”

“Yes. Svetlana, call the others. It’s time to put our plan into high gear. Hell’s Moon is upon us.”

  Steve was having a shitty birthday.

The press was pestering him about the presidential election. Several outlets have called him a sellout and a coward for not endorsing anyone.

He was figuring out the best way to take a shower and hit the hay in less than 30 minutes when he found a beautifully written note taped to his door.

It said to come to Ife room wearing his best dancing clothes.

Ten minutes later, Steve knocked on her door and it instantly opened to reveal a modest dancing hall not unlike the ones he went to with Bucky before the war.

He was so lost in thoughts admiring the place that he failed to notice Ife hovering a few feet from him.

“Happy Birthday, Steve! How do you like it?”

Steve turned to see Ife in a knee-length golden yellow African Wax Print Ankara dress with cold shoulders, ruffled sleeves, and a v-neckline. He didn’t miss the modest view of her cleavage or how her legs looked oh, so smooth in the dress.

Ife, for her part, was super nervous about this. Nat said that people went to dance halls all the time in the late 1930s and 1940s and it took her five days to get the architecture, the music, and the lighting just right.

She hoped that Steve wouldn’t be angry with her.

Steve looked incredibly handsome in his simple dress shirt and slacks. His powerful shoulders, thick biceps, trim waist, and beefy thighs were accentuated by the lighting which made him look like he was glowing.

Ife would’ve drooled if she knew that he didn’t like it when most women would throw themselves at him.

“It’s amazing. Thank you.”

“I’m sorry about the dress. I couldn-”

Steve raised a hand to stop her from going off on a tangent,”You look beautiful.”

Ife felt a flurry of warmth in her core at the compliment.

“So, what would like to do?”

Before Steve could answer, Duke Ellington’s Don’t Mean a Thing starting playing.

Steve stretched out his hand, “Would you like to dance?”

Ife took his had and they glided onto the dance floor.

“Where did you learn to dance?”

“Bucky’s mom made us learn when Bucky started getting attention from the girls at school. She thought it best that we knew how to treat them to a good time.”

“I see,” Ife giggled, “Then she was wise to make take the lessons. Though I’m more familiar with the jitterbug.”

Steve chuckled as they resumed swinging. He hummed a bit as they danced to Ella Fitzgerald, Caro Emerald, Jo Stafford, Billie Holiday, and Gene Krupa.

Ife was impressed with Steve’s dancing skills. What were those women thinking passing him up like that?!

After a couple more rounds of dancing, the music shifted to something more modern but not (it was Howl’s Moving Castle’s Main Theme) , the colors on the walls and ceiling brightened, and several chandeliers formed on the ceiling.

Steve gave Ife a slightly confused look and asked her if she would like to try a waltz this time.

The song lasted a little more than five minutes. Steve was somehow able to lead their movements in sync with the song.

Ife felt her body was aflame with gentle yet commanding touches Steve was giving her. He even lifted her a few times making her feel as though she was flying with how gently he held her.

They were absorbed in their own world they either failed to notice or ignored Nat and Wanda entering Ife room to see if they could have another spa day. Nat even got a few pictures of the two dancing.

Steve gave Ife one last life during the climax and pulled her in when the music came to a close. They were about to come in for a kiss when Ife pressed her lips together and back away.

“We should probably retire for evening. Goodnight, Steve.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped in defeat, but left Ife’s room with a simple goodnight with Nat and Wanda in tow.

Ife frowned. She knew Steve wasn’t in the best place for a relationship and her conscience wouldn’t let her take advantage of that.

[joontier]

The King’s Guard | Chapter 2

–> Pairings: kim seokjin x reader; jeon jungkook x reader

–> Rating:  R

–> Genre/warnings:  M U C H  A N G S T; y’all I even cried while writing this sksksk why do I torture myself like this; slightly graphic mentions of dead people, mentions of blood, super slight gore; suggestive language, SMUT AGAIN (voyeurism, shit why do i expose myself too much, petting, unprotected sex, kitchen sex) 

–> Word count: 8.8k

–> A/N: Korean vocabulary used will be placed at the end of the chapter :-) Also, all history indicated here is fictitious, then again, it is fan fiction after all. ALSO, GOOD LUCK WITH THE END OF THE CHAPTER ;) tell me whatcha think!!!

The King’s Guard - Masterlist  ||  navi.

The King’s Guard | Chapter 2

The warmth in the room makes you stir in bed, the sun’s rays attempting to peek through the paper windows creating too much discomfort for you to continue your beloved slumber. As you turn your body, you see a scroll accompanied by a carnation on your bedside table. Hastily reaching for the scroll, your other hand clutches onto the blanket to cover your chest.

Your stomach drops. With trembling hands, you open the message. No, No, No. NO!  

“My love,

Truthfullly, I do not know where to begin, nor do I know why I am writing this in the first place. What I can be somehow certain of is that I do not have full confidence that my plans shall come into fruition. I guess this letter shall provide me with the least solace for my judgments. The matters of the south have cost me sleepless nights and days, moments that I could regrettably have spent with you, and for that I am truly sorry. It pains me that you might have perceived last night a selfish act to heed to the wants of the flesh but know that every word I have uttered during our throes of passion was not made in jest.

I will not have to lie – you carrying my children, the two of us finally creating a family – the thought alone gives me unparalleled happiness. In the near future, I desire twelve children with you representing the twelve lunar animals, that is, if you allow me to do so. I will be satisfied with eleven, if you must.

Great is the pain that I have to bear with my decision, but great too is the weight of my duties to my country. You of all people have reminded me of that. It is treason against the country for me not to find a way to make amends, yet is treason against my heart to have left you like this.

Alas, I too am scared myself with this journey that I must take, but your love and prayers shall give me strength. My queen, I ask you to not worry much for I did not come unprepared, for I have brought with me the greatest warriors known to our nation, and they shall stand by my side, should the time come that our peaceful exertions shall lead to one of violence.

If, however, may our ancestors and the gods forbid, that the circumstances shall not permit me to return to you, the only love of my life, I cannot ask you remain alone without me in this cruel world because that would be most selfish of me. Live and indulge yourself in the pleasures of life, my dove, continue your flight in this world even if it no longer has me in it.

If I truly have gone for good, I want you to be happy. I am begging you to be happy. Find a man that shall love you from the tiny mole by your forehead to the tips of your toes. Find a man that shall cherish you for your entire being, find someone that shall bestow upon you love more than you deserve, just as you have done the same to me and to the people around you.

Let this reassurance console you that the happiest days of my life have been from your love and affection, and that I die loving only you and with a fervent hope that our souls shall be reunited after this and will have to part no more. Just because I would have passed away does not mean I am not with you, I will always be here looking over you, keeping you safe. Should the day come that you succumb to the sadness of my loss, just close your eyes and I will be by your side in an instant.

This is goodbye to your kisses that shall continue to linger on my lips even if I could not have them again. This is goodbye to your caresses that have kept me warm during the harsh, cold winters. This is goodbye to your endless patronizing that has grounded me through the many decisions I had to make. And finally, this is goodbye to you, my angel, my sweet carnation.

With every word written comes forth a tear, and I fear that I may not finish this letter without wetting the entire page. I will have to leave shortly, and now I will leave your security to the hands of our new captain. He has my trust.

Know that I would have traded a decade of my life just to spend ten more breaths with you. I love you, my queen, with all that I was, with all that I am, and with all that I ever will be.

Seokjin”

A loud, broken sob escapes your lips. Your cheeks become wet with tears, visible wet patches staining your blanket. You let yourself fall back to the bed, body crumpling in anguish. How could you have let him go? You curse at yourself for letting sleep take over you again earlier, when he was already at arm’s reach, so close to forbid him from leaving.

You stay like that on the bed for a few moments, body quaking with distress and clutching onto the piece of paper close to your chest. This was it. Although there was still a part of you that Seokjin will come home to you in one piece, your brain is already betraying you with images of your husband covered in blood, left lifeless in the middle of the road.

Crying harder at the image, you try to muffle them with your blankets that vaguely smell of Seokjin. Your chest constricts. You already know he had intentions of visiting the south even with your constant reminders of the dangers of the south. Your heart clenches when you recall the one time you had argued about it.

‘It’s a lost cause, Seokjin.’ You already felt that one thing was going to lead to another and this conversation was definitely going to end up in an argument.

“What I am I supposed to do here then? Stand and join festivities while my own people are being attacked by rebellious troops? While riots occur on the daily? While there are people dying of hunger on the streets?”

“No! I- That’s not what I meant!”

“Then what am I to do then?!”

“I just—If you go there…” You hiccup, unable to continue when your lips start to tremble. You choke as you suppress a sob, covering your face with your hands as you start to bawl your heart out. Seokjin flees toward you, apologizing profusely as he had probably scared you with the risen pitch of his voice. “Shhh,” he engulfs you in a hug, pulling you close to him.

You begin to calm down after some time, the warmth of Seokjin’s body easily consoling you. Your husband doesn’t let go when you finally catch your breath and your grip tightens around his waist, creasing his durumagi.

With your voice slightly muffled as your mouth is pressed against your husband’s chest, you continue talking, knowing that Seokjin will have no problem comprehending your words. “I’ve lost everyone because of them Seokjin. My father, my real mother, my friends…” you sniff, wiping your cheeks with the sleeves of your jeogori. “Please,” you beseech, “I can’t lose you to them too,” your voice cracks at the thought, eyes brimming with tears once more.

“I won’t let that happen, love.” He doesn’t know that.

You feel your chest starting to heave again, Seokjin slowly guides you to the bed, seats you both, and lets you lay your head on his lap as he rests his own on the wall adjacent to the bed. Gently, he strokes your hair until you finally, truly calm down this time, silent tears now rolling down your cheeks.

The words are heavy on your lips, every emotion rolling off your tongue as you say the words you dread the most. “They’re going to kill you Seokjin.” You take his hand and rest it against your cheek, his hand still seemingly larger with the way your two hands are clutching onto it. You continue with bated breath, “Maybe even before you enter the southern gates, maybe even before you get a single step out of the capitol...” Your voice comes down to a whisper when you repeat your earlier words. “They are going to kill you.”

You tilt your head a little to take a good look at your husband. You see the faint stubble just under his chin. He probably hasn’t shaved yet with the lack of free time on his hands. Shamelessly, you always imagine what he’d look like with a beard but you’re willing to bet your life that he’d be just as handsome as he is now. He keeps on shaving it, much to your dismay, countering that he doesn’t want you to feel and discomfort or itch when he kisses you. You’ll have to leave your bearded Seokjin fantasies somewhere in the future. If the future still has Seokjin in it.

In the past, the five major cities of Korea never got along. It was more of an unspoken rivalry for years on end between the kings and their subjects. People from the east took pride on their agricultural lands and livestock, the westerners’ livelihood depends heavily on lumber, northerners brag about their coal mining and fishery, the south leads the nation’s masonry and defense, and finally, the capitol is the center of textile and is otherwise known as the home of the scholars.

Combined together, this nation would have been unconquerable. But these royals are still human beings and human beings are vulnerable to temptation, constantly fueled by the idea of acquiring something that another does not have.

Unfortunately, a nation with citizens that had no sense of nationalism was the perfect target, the easiest to penetrate for the colonizers. The promises of an alliance to a foreign nation seemed to great an offer to decline. Fools. Just like that, the foreigners tricked each king to go against the other cities – their own people, their own blood. Empty promises drilled into empty heads. Blinded by inane vows of wealth and power, these people who call themselves leaders never knew they were being deceived altogether.

That is, until King Seokwoo of the capitol, Seokjin’s father, realized the deception early enough to stop the war but too late to pacify the nation’s internal turmoil. With his heart and dignity on the line, the brave king of the capitol had gone to the other kings to make them realize their mistakes, their greed, and their shameless thirst for power.

Nobody wanted to believe him at first, not when he too was a part of it all. He apologized in court – the one thing a king never does. He put his pride on the line for the country he loves, bowing his head in front of the other kings, and their respective advisors. King Seokwoo knew he was going to lose his credibility like this with his heart and pride on his sleeve, but only he knew, and only he understood, that a king should not be loyal to the throne and the power it holds, but to his country.

Only when he revealed the scrolls of plans he stole from the colonizers that they collectively decided to temporarily set aside their present caprices and decree a pact for the good of the nation. For once in a very long time, the kings had agreed on one thing.

That night, they had agreed to choose a king to lead the fight against the colonizers – the king who would lead Korea back to greatness. Three kings, in honor of Seokwoo’s bravery and humility, chose him to be the leader of the nation. Only one king of a city voted against Seokwoo as King of Korea – your father.

“My Queen?” A soft voice calls from outside your door. Haesoo.  

“Leave, Haesoo.”

“Jungjeon-mama, please. You have not left your room all morning, and lunch—”

“I said leave!”

You recoil the moment the words spill from your mouth. You hadn’t meant to snap at her, she was your favorite court lady after all. She was stubborn, above all things, and you likened her to your younger self that’s why she earned your favor the most. But her adamancy only causes her more trouble, especially in times like these. Perhaps her slight insensitivity came with her youth? You’re certain that you’ve caused worry because of your audible wailing earlier, but company was the last thing you needed right now.

“Yes my Queen.” She replies, voice small.

You don’t know how long you stay in bed like that, watching your chest rise and fall under the covers with every breath. Your head is swirling in emotions – fear, anger, misery. As you continue to stare into the ceiling, your stomach grumbles so you deem it wise that you have at least one meal for today - just enough to satiate your hunger and give you strength to face the rest of the day. But not before indulging yourself in your favorite bath first.

You stay much longer in the bath today – letting the water cause wrinkles in the pads of your fingers. Shoving your husband’s image to the back of your head temporarily, your thoughts drift to other the other predicaments you have to face while Seokjin is away. ‘You have to be strong,’ you mutter to yourself. For Seokjin. For the future. For Korea.

The court ladies get startled when you suddenly rise from the pool, one of them hurriedly draping a towel over you. You let her lead the way to a dressing room where your royal garments are neatly folded on a table. Staring at your reflection on the mirror, your eyes linger on the red marks littered across your torso. You feel your chest constrict one more time. Taking a deep breath, you repeat to yourself. ‘For Seokjin. For the future. For Korea.’

Chaeyoung waits until you have worn your undergarments and helps you with the rest of your hanbok. You can feel the nervousness radiating off her, clammy hands tying the ribbons on your dress. You can’t really blame her; this was probably the first time they have seen you this cold and distant. You usually made small talk with the court ladies, genuinely curious about their individualities and because they’re the closest you can get to your subjects.

Certainly, Seokjin’s leave also has the whole palace on edge. Everybody was aware of what was going on in the south, and with their king’s sudden absence this morning, word has been going around in the palace. You’re thankful that the palace workers are discreet with their whispering, but these wooden walls were never thick enough to maintain secrecy between two people.

You leave the room as soon as Chaeyoung finishes and you come face to face with a familiar red and white uniform. “Wangbi,” Captain Jung greets as he bows his head. “Captain.” You acknowledge, finding yourself looking up at him when you do so – he was taller than you expected him to be.

“I am under the King’s orders to watch you wherever you go, my Queen.” He tails after you when you start walking.

“And does that include the private royal baths Captain?” You turn to face him again.

He gets flustered at your question, quickly averting his gaze from you. Looking down, the captain shakes his head, muttering under his breath something along the lines of ‘security’ and ‘king’s orders’.

You don’t know what urged you to tease him like that – probably because of his innocent-like features that makes him so tease-worthy, but since his arrival and inauguration as captain of the royal guards, you can’t help but get drawn to the man. Sure, he was attractive with attributes of youthful exuberance on his face, that, and that he was a finely built man, taut muscles hiding underneath those silken robes. At least, that’s what you presume from listening to the whispers among the court ladies.

They also said he’s had quite the reputation from where he came from in the East, famous for his looks and even more famous for his ways of luring skirts to his bed. So, you’ve heard. Genuinely surprised at how these rumors even came out in the first place, it still makes you laugh when you recall the obscenity of it all, despite the court ladies supposedly being the spitting image of modesty observed in the palace.

The rumors are true. You could easily attest to that as you have personally witnessed it once, how the captain could easily captivate women with his face alone. But his charm wasn’t the reason why you seem to magnetize towards the captain.

During their inauguration day, as you were too preoccupied with how dashing your husband looks in official robe, you hadn’t been paying attention to the event, let alone the emotional speech that the captain shared to the crowd. It was only when you caught sight of the scar on his left cheek that got you so curious. You wonder where you’ve seen that scar before. He looks familiar. He feels familiar. You can’t put a finger on it right now, but you certainly feel like you’ve known Jung Jungkook from somewhere, sometime in your past.

You don’t realize you’re lost in your thoughts when a hand suddenly pulls you back by your elbow, stopping you from walking straight to a wall. “Jungjeon-mama!” The lady beside you exclaims. “My Queen, are you okay?” The captain behind you asks, his grip now loosening on your elbow. You nod sheepishly, dismissing the whole fiasco with an awkward cough.

“You can go ahead, Chaeyoung. I’ll be back by sunset. Make sure dinner is ready by then.” The court lady nods curtly in acknowledgment and bows before leaving the both of you. You turn your head to look at Jungkook who continues to stand by your side. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way, your Highness.”

You plan on spending the rest of your day in one of the most serene places in the palace. Besides yours and Seokjin’s garden, the doltap shrine is another place you head to for peace and quiet. The shrine, complete with a mini pavilion, is situated on a small hill, surrounded by the beauty of nature – a place so perfectly serene that only monks and royalty are allowed to visit to maintain its tranquility.

It’s significantly father than any other house or office in this palace that it requires quite a tedious, long walk and a boat ride across the Gaeun river. This is why you rarely visit the shrine, but on the days that you do, the wearisome trek is always rewarding. It’s perhaps part of the whole process of meditation, you presume, as the shrine is a place where you offer your greatest, deepest prayers.

The captain trudges behind you, unable to cope with your leisurely pace. He quickens his steps when he sees he’s falling behind, but when he deems he’s walking too close to you he slows his pace once more until he has to catch up again. You become curious at his strange feat, unable to stop yourself from asking him about it.

“Captain, have you not taken a leisurely walk like this before?”

“My deepest apologies, Mama. I am really not used to a pace like this.”

Who knew the greatly feared captain could be so mildly…amusing? Jungkook gets surprised when you let out a giggle after having stared at him for a moment at his confession. He is unable to stop the small smile etching into his face at the beautiful sound, deciding it’s something he wants to hear all day long.

“You are a mirthful one, Jung.”

There is a skip in the man’s heartbeat when he hears you say his surname – or, at least, the surname he’s been using since his arrival at the capitol. He supposes it satisfactory that he’s made you comfortable around him, enough for you to call him by his alias. Not like you were going to be on a first name basis anyways. Jungkook found it easier to keep up with your pace after your verdict.

You were beautiful. Well, you still are, and probably will be for a very long time. He wonders if you already had your portrait painted. It used to be a hobby he thoroughly learned and enjoyed from where he’s from and now it has blossomed into a business around his past village, selling portraits for a few silver coins. He takes pride in his paintings, having learned the skill from the virtuoso himself – his father. He was the first man in Korea to add colors to a drawing, bringing forth life to an inanimate illustration.

Even if Jungkook painted you though, it would probably be useless for him to do so, because a portrait - even if done on the finest paper or painted with the brightest colors, could never capture your real beauty, nor give justice to it. In the past, he had heard stories of what the queen of the capitol looked like, but none of these rumors had prepared him for the genuineness of it all. Your beauty was indescribable, but Jungkook only knew one description that fit you the best – that you are the epitome of a woman’s unadulterated pulchritude.

Jungkook could not question why the king is absolutely smitten with you, admittedly, the rest of the nation is. If you were a lady that belonged to the same class, he would have tried to capture your heart from the very start. Maybe in another life, perhaps. But to him, it wasn’t just your pretty face that made you so riveting.

Unlike any other woman in the nation, you were headstrong, refusing to submit to the societal morals and principles. You were the only woman who would stand proud and tall amongst a sea of men, and one gaze from you had the power to intimidate both man and woman alike. Undoubtedly, you were raised like that: to be the queen – with your childhood nurtured with doctrines and routines only afforded to a king in the making. That fact he knew all too well.

When you look to your left, he spots a red mark on your neck, just below the smooth slope of your jawline. He flushes at the sight of the rose-colored blotch staring back at him, the base of his neck turning red at the recollection of the events last night. Jungkook can see your lips moving as you talk but he can’t seem to hear you, let alone take his eyes off the love bite on your neck.

“Captain Jung?”

Jungkook coughs to mask his surprise, “Sorry, Jungjeon-mama. I thought I saw something in the woods. It must’ve been a squirrel or a small animal.” You nod your head in acknowledgement and reply, “We still must be wary. There are…people…who do not mean well…” your words fade, voice cracking at the thought of your husband. Jungkook notices your anxiety.

“I will protect you with my life, my Queen. Please do not worry.”

“Of course, Captain Jung. I believe you.” Giving him a small smile, you continue walking, your shoes softly squishing against the green dewy grass. It’s a beautiful day today: the sky is clear and the sun is out, compared to your heart which is now clouded with storms and thunder. You shall try not to dwell on your emotions today.

“So, enlighten me Captain.”

“Ah, but Mama, my life may not measure up to yours in terms of adventure.”

You raise an eyebrow at his reply. Your life story isn’t known to many, even a number of the citizens don’t even know you are a southerner. Gazing into Jungkook’s eyes, you look for any mysterious truth hiding beneath them, but you’re only faced with his curious doe-like eyes. You’re conflicted if you’re supposed to feel disappointed or not if he was truly a part of your past, but you’ll have to leave that for another time.

“Surely, it can’t be that uninteresting.”

“If you insist, Jungjeon-mama. But don’t complain if you fall asleep before we reach the shrine.” The captain knows he’s pushing the line by teasing you like this, but the way you roll your eyes at him tells him you feel otherwise.

He tells the story he’s practiced endless times lacing a few truths from his past. “Well, I belong to a family of four. My parents work in the fields and my brother and I would play in them all day long until my mother would call us back in for supper. During the Great Colonization, my father used to serve King Donggeun of the East…” He steps aside to make way, a hand shooting out to help you to an elevated part of the head of the bridge. You place your hand on his gratefully, your feet taking quite the leap.

He continues with his monologue, “My mother always told us that she never thought father would never survive the Great Colonization. Even before the pact, there had already been attacks on the borders, the rivalry too much for people who call themselves citizens of the same nation. He had come home greatly wounded one night and my mother was crying so much that she could barely treat my father’s wounds. He had even offered her a literal bloody hand with the treatment, causing my mother to cry more, complaining about how he could have found pleasantries at such a grievous time.”

“Thankfully, the pact has been completed before things ultimately became worse. He was called to fight again to drive off the colonizers, but with the people from all the cities fighting as one force, casualties from our troops were only at the minimum. He has fought side by side with King Deonggeun and even saved the late king’s life at one instance. He had been promoted to a higher rank since then.” He pauses his narrative momentarily when your hand hooks around his elbow, clutching onto him as you go down a light slope to where a narrow dock is situated.

The captain tries not to be obvious about his astonishment at your actions as he places his hand over it, supporting your balance when you place a foot inside the boat. “But with a promotion in the military ranks comes more visits in the palace, and more visits in the palace only lead to one thing: King Donggeun taking an interest in my mother.” Your hand flies to your mouth to mask your shock. And just moments ago, he thought his life wasn’t supposedly as colorful as yours?

When Jungkook finally seats himself, he grabs at the oars and starts to row. It would have been fun if Haesoo had gone with, as you would inevitably tease her with her ogling the captain. She would’ve gushed at how his muscles must ripple underneath the uniform, or how his chest puffs out with every row. As your favorite court lady occupies your thoughts, you reckon that you owe her an apology later.  

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened next?” The captain lets out a chuckle at your wide-eyed curiosity. “Of course, Mama. I am a man of manners. A story must have a beginning and an end.”

“King Donggeun tried to conceal his feelings at first. But the rumored loss of his wife was too great of a sadness for him to bear. And he longed for the kind of comfort only a woman could give. Soon enough, father noticed the king’s longing looks, knowing all too well the sentiments the king hid behind his eyes. After all, he too was a man in love and a firm believer of the famous saying ‘the eyes are windows to our souls’.” The captain says the words with such drama that you fail to suppress the giggle that escapes your lips. Jungkook’s own lips twitch, chest beaming with pride with the fact that he has made you laugh twice today.

“Things kept in hiding will always come out, one way or another. And so, the king ended up confessing his feelings to my mother. He had begged her to be his concubine, even when they both knew she was tied to another. She fled from the king’s arms that night in fear and confusion, telling the whole confession to my father with teary eyes.”

The captain slows his rowing, creating small ripples against the clear water.

“That same night, my father learned that love meant having to constantly make sacrifices for the better, even if we end up losing that which matters most in our hearts. What the king wants, the king gets,” the captain’s lips fall into a tight-lipped smile. “There was too much at risk, my father couldn’t say no to his own king. Needless to say, even if we did eventually get to live nearer the palace, mother’s visits became less frequent, and soon our mother became only a figment of our imagination.”

Each word of the captain struck at your heart. You had never expected so many shared similarities in your past. His eyes are swimming with emotion. Not once had you seen a royal guard like this, looking so vulnerable, so human in front of your eyes.

“With nothing to lose, the three of us left the eastern city and headed to the capitol. We begged for food and slept on the streets for days until a family took pity and welcomed us into their home. When the father of the family introduced himself as a royal guard, my father offered his services as payment for their kindness.”

When you’ve reached the other side of the river, Jungkook sets the oars aside before guiding you up to the dock. You wait under the shade of a nearby tree until he’s fixated the boat properly onto the dock. He approaches you, dusting his pants with his hands. “Where were we? Ah. The kind family. I, too, have also had a realization here in the capitol. Happiness does not last for long, so we have to learn how to live each day with glee and gratitude.” You both continue the walk, with each step getting closer to your destination.

“A few days after our arrival, my brother caught this incurable illness. We had consulted every physician in the city, but all our efforts were in vain. My father and I had to lay him to rest just when we thought we had started a new life here in the capitol.”

“My father? Like I had mentioned during our inauguration, my father sacrificed his life for his country. Because he loves our nation, and because he loves us. All he wanted was a bright future for me, and for my mom as well, though he’d never admit that out loud. He never stopped loving her, even when she exchanged her family for the kind of life we could never give her.”

“Well, Mama. Are you sufficiently enlightened now?” You stay quiet at first, reciting a prayer to the gods and to your ancestors and you place another stone on the pile of rocks.

“I am Jungkook. I am.”

The journey to the south was filled with dread from the very start. The troop left the capital in silence, every man anxious of what is to come. Or rather, who awaits their coming. Seokjin had not said anything before they exited the gates of the capital because he knew words of encouragement would have done nothing to soothe the disquietude evident amongst them. The company had chosen to take a shortcut through the woods, one that will allow them to reach their destination within a shorter period of time.

They already have been traveling for quite some time, yet it feels like they have been for days. There are far fewer villages near the woods where there are to pass, but Seokjin had not expected this particular village to be so different from the others.

Dust rises when the horses halt, Seokjin abruptly putting up his fist in the air. It’s eerily quiet. Empty stalls of goods stand with no merchant behind them. Houses feel empty, with no person coming out and about. A gust of wind passes them, like an omen being whispered into their ears. The hairs at the back of Seokjin’s neck rise.

“What happened here?” A guard from the front asks.

“Jeonha, look!” Another shouts, pointing to a nearby house. A boy comes forth and walks, limps rather, towards them. Seokjin dismounts from his horse and takes a few steps forward. He lets the child come to him, the king lowering on his knees to receive the child. The child approaches Seokjin with a steady pace and with one final step left, he loses all his strength and falls. Luckily, Seokjin’s reflexes are quick enough so he catches the child before he falls to the ground.

“It’s quiet now,” the child mumbles. He takes a deep breath, body quaking with exertion as he does. “They came here…took everything…killed everyone and…s-south,” Seokjin holds him tighter as the boy’s breathing shallows, “Shhh, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” He consoles, tears swelling in his eyes as he gently rocks the child in his arms. The boy’s chest stops heaving and he finally closes his eyes. The king’s fingers fly to the child’s neck, looking for a pulse. None. Seokjin’s brows come together in anger, his beautiful face contorting into one of rage.

He stands, the boy in his arms now seemingly smaller and lighter than before. “Namjoon, with me. The rest of you, check the village. See if anybody is still alive, go over every house, every room, every corner. If you see a southerner lurking around, bring him to me.” Seokjin orders. “And I’ll execute him myself.”

As the troop disperses, Seokjin commands Kim Namjoon to look for a shovel and follow him to nearby open lot afterwards. Thankfully, the king doesn’t need to tell the guard what to do. As Namjoon digs a hole, Seokjin gently lays the child on a wooden bench while he looks for a cloth to wrap him in. His heart breaks for this child – that the young boy had to go through so much at such a young age, and now at the time of his death, he couldn’t even be afforded with proper burial rites.

The burial was shorter than expected and Seokjin ends the rite with a prayer to his ancestors and the gods above. The pair sit beside the child’s makeshift resting place for a while, both in deep contemplation. Their reverie is cut short when another guard calls from behind, “Jeonha,” he calls again, breathless, “there is something you must see.”

He leads the pair through the woods and towards a small clearing, where the troop has gathered around. “What’s this?” Seokjin takes his steps cautiously, the group beginning to make way for the king. Once the path clears, Seokjin stops in his tracks. From his peripheral, he sees Namjoon’s failed attempt to not gag at the scene before them.

The villagers. The stench. The message.

Seokjin tries to close his eyes, wanting to forget he even saw something this terrible. But no, the image has already etched itself into his memory forever. He can’t even imagine what type of human would have the guts to do this…monstrosity?

Scattered across the clearing are the villagers, stacked on top of each other, the formation with a similarity uncanny with the rock formation in front of them. The villagers were piled behind the doltap, where one muddy hand from each pile reaches out, holding a scroll with the words written with the villager’s own blood. “You can never keep us out.”

Seokjin’s hands ball into fists as he realizes what instigated this massacre. During the height of the turmoil in the south, he had sent out a proclamation weeks ago to implore the entire nation to remain strong and as one amidst these trying times which put their patriotism to the test.

The doltap is a stack of stones, usually erected at village entrances – a natural representation of guardians of the village, keeping away the bad and inviting the good. It had been tradition for people to pile rocks on top of each other along with symbolisms of their intentions placed near the stack.

Since the proclamation, the citizens had been placing more and more objects in front of their shrines, like a bowl of rice grains or the emblem of the south. Inevitably infuriated with this new practice, the southerners wrecked village after village in rage, leaving nothing but desolation in their wake. These people are but a number from the villages they victimized. Seokjin is lucky this is first and only village he will see.

The sky is a purplish pink by the time they have finished the burial rites for the village. “The sun is setting,” Seokjin announces to the group, “we will take shelter and camp there, by the woods. It will not be smart to individually use the houses here.”

Nobody could sleep a wink that night, especially not the king. He supposed no one could ever, not when you had just witnessed such a horrific sight. He continues to stare at the moon, head swarming with endless thoughts. As he rests his head against the bark of the oak tree, Seokjin’s thoughts race to you, what could you possibly be doing in this hour, if you were thinking of him right now. If you’d taken supper or skipped your meals today. You always did that when you were upset, and he had no doubt you were.

“Namjoon,” Seokjin calls to the trusted guard. Namjoon has been like him the whole night, staring into the distance, curious what the future might hold for them.

“Namjoon.” He calls again, this time with a louder voice, successfully getting the younger man’s attention.

“Jeonha,” Namjoon turns, “my sincerest apologies, but the moon seems to have a wonderful glow tonight. Might this be a good sign?” The guard bows, shame coloring his face as he got caught preoccupied with other things on his mind.

“I too fervently wish for that…I…” He was not about to make the same mistake to Namjoon. Seokjin gets frustrated at the thought of always being a step behind the enemy. He’s made this mistake with Minseok, and he wasn’t about to do the same with Namjoon.

“You wanted to say something, my King?”

“I…I just wanted to thank you, for always being loyal to the throne.” Seokjin is all too aware of what the people are saying. They are his people after all. He ought to know them best. They’re blaming him for these agonizing events, if he just hadn’t sent that proclamation, then this wouldn’t have happened in the first place.

“Only because the throne is worth being loyal to.” Namjoon replies, not missing a beat.

“So,” the king moves to a lighter topic, not wanting to ruin the illustrious mood afforded by the bright sky like this night. “how is the romance in your life? Haesoo, is it?”

The younger man gets caught off-guard, startled at the king’s sudden inquiry and knowledge. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, jeonha,” Namjoon looks down, cheeks starting to tinge with a blush. ‘He can’t give this away’, the guard thinks, suddenly all too aware that the king is sitting right beside him. As all of them had taken a pledge of loyalty to throne and the throne alone, so a relationship between workers of the palace was considered taboo, at least, until Seokjin’s reign.

“Namjoon. I am speaking to you as a friend. And even if I did speak to you as king of the nation, who am I to take control of the matters of the heart? You yourself can’t seem to help it. What more of I?”

“Jeonha, please tell me. What does love feel like?”

“Love comes in many forms, my friend. In fact, it’s everywhere. Personally, I think it’s what makes the world go around, if the studies and calculations of astronomer Lee is correct. What we’re doing right now is love, love for our country, our citizens. The memorials we hold for our late relatives is also a commemoration of our love. Love is not exclusive to human relations though, there is love for animals, love for nature…” The king turns to face the young guard who blinks owlishly back at him.

“I know that wasn’t the kind of love you’re asking about. I’m getting there, worry not, my friend. I just needed context.” Seokjin looks away, partly embarrassed at himself. “As I was saying… there is one kind of love however that I treasure the most, and for me, it’s the kind of love that enraptures you the most: the love for a special person. I hate to say this, but it’s something so complex that it’s indescribable. It makes you feel plenty of emotions all at the same time. For instance, when you see her, you feel your heart pumping out of your chest, or sometimes your heart constricts at the realization that she’s yours and yours alone.”

“That wasn’t that much of a help was it?” Seokjin sighs defeatedly.

“Can I be honest with you, jeonha?” The king nods. “No, not really.” The pair chuckle at that, both relieved that at least they found something to laugh about tonight.

Heaving a sigh, Namjoon turns to face him with glossy eyes. “Well, it is unfortunate that we are not lovers then. Yet. Then I shall ask her to be my betrothed, if we come home.”

“When, Namjoon. When we come home.”

The two continue return their eyes to the moon. It looks bigger tonight. Astronomer Lee says bigger moons bring about luck to all those who look upon it, Seokjin fervently hoping that this journey might somehow be in their favor.

You’ve been tossing around in bed for quite some time now, unable to sleep. Perhaps a cup of milk would do the trick, you thought, pulling the covers away from your body. You wrap a robe over the flimsy garment you usually sleep in and head over to the secret door of your room. It’s been specifically designed to blend in with the wall, only to be used in worst-case scenarios.

Sliding the door open, you creep out of your room, dragging your cotton-clad feet against the wooden floor to make minimal sounds. You head to the bridge connecting your hanok to the palace kitchen. You don’t realize you’re too concentrated on not making noise that you don’t notice the body in front of you. “Jungjeon-mama?” the guard asks, peering down at you. “I’ll just get something from the kitchen, I will be quick.” Discretion could only last for so long. He bows and moves out of the way.

Rummaging through the kitchen as quietly as you can, you silently curse at yourself for not bringing a lamp with you, now all you can do is sniff at the vessels of liquid, hoping that you’ll uncover the right one. Thankfully, you manage to choose the right vessel in no time. As your eyes had adjusted to the light, you manage to grab a ladle and a nearby bowl with almost no noise at all.

As you pour yourself some milk, you return the cover and rest your behind against the table.

You figure it’s time to apologize to her. As you open your mouth to call, a male voice beats you to it. “You’re so beautiful.” Mouth parting in mild surprise, your eyes widen, searching for the voice’s owner. You couldn’t make out who’s voice it belonged to as it was said just barely above a whisper, and you continue peeking through the small space when your eyes land on the captain.

Your hand shoots over your mouth as your lips fall wider apart. It’s finally happening! But wait… you stand up straighter in realization. Namjoon? You’ve heard the guard has been harboring affection towards your favorite court lady for quite some time now. Seokjin was first to notice it, pointing out how Namjoon would sneak glances at Haesoo whenever you were together, both parties walking as one. You heart clenches at the perplexity of the situation.

Surely you’re not meant to stay here and watch the spectacle? Milk was what you came here for, you remind yourself, but like always, curiosity gets the best of you. Jungkook takes another step towards Haesoo, who seems frozen at her spot. Do something lady! You watch as the captain slowly reaches out his hand, the back of his fingers gently caressing the lady’s face. Haesoo leans towards the man’s touch.

“May I?” Jungkook asks, eyes searching for any signs of doubt in Haesoo’s. The girl nods curtly and without waiting any further, Jungkook closes the distance between them. Watching their lips move in sync, you take this as your cue to leave, that is, until you hear a pot clanging against the floor. Your line of vision suddenly returns to the couple to check if someone got hurt, only to find out quite the opposite.

Jungkook has already backed up Haesoo to lean against a table adjacent to the wall. The captain lifts her with ease to sit on the table, Haesoo pulling her knees apart so she could properly hold onto the man, her nimble fingers pulling at Jungkook’s hair. The captain starts smothering her with kisses all over her cheeks, jaws, and neck like a frenzied, starved man. You can’t look away, not when Haesoo is failing miserably at her attempt to keep her whimpering at bay.  

Jungkook’s fingers work deftly in undoing the ribbons on her hanbok, lips still trained on lavishing her skin with kisses. As the garment falls easily from Haesoo’s shoulders, Jungkook’s large hand palms her breast while the other is busy kneading the expanse of her thigh. The captain revels in Haesoo’s pliancy, with the girl tilting her head back at Jungkook’s ministrations, begging him for more.  

Her hanbok is completely off her torso now, the silk bunching up at hips. Jungkook takes this moment to take a hardened nipple between his lips and swirling his tongue around it as a hand squeezes the supple flesh of the other. Haesoo mewls at the captain’s actions, back arching, words no longer needed to show what she wants, what she desires.

This is wrong. You aren’t supposed to be watching such a private moment, let along seemingly enjoying it. Like Haesoo earlier, you’re just as frozen in your spot as she was.

You no longer see much of Haesoo torso, considering their proximity, but you see Jungkook’s hand removing itself from the assault on her breasts, traveling to her core. She shivers when Jungkook’s fingers swipes against her folds and raising his fingers under the moonlight seeping through the window, observing how wet the tips of his fingers are due to the court lady’s essence.

“Look at you,” Jungkook murmurs in a low voice, watching the slick coating his fingers. “So wet and ready for me. I bet I’d slip right in hmm?”

“Please,” Haesoo begs, hiding her face between his shoulders in pleading. “I need you.” Jungkook seems to have no problem complying, abruptly bring his pants down to his thighs.

You don’t see much due to the lack of light in the room and their compromising position on the table, but this seems all the more thrilling like this. You reprimand yourself, as if Seokjin was lacking in bed. But you have not tried being intimate anywhere else but your room and his office – and the thought of doing it at such a common place like the kitchen where anyone from the palace could easily enter excites you in the strangest way possible.

Surely you can’t be going crazy, can you? Is it normal to find such a spectacle so strangely arousing? The sight of two lovers getting intimate?

Jungkook gently lays her down on the table, pushing her down by her shoulders. He parts her legs wider before adjusting his stance and slowly thrusting his hips forward. Your jaw slackens the same time with Haesoo. You feel your own nipples harden at the sight, the sensitive buds trying to pry through the material.

He pauses for a moment, letting Haesoo adjust to the feeling as his head tilts back, the lady’s velvety walls clenching wonderfully around his cock. When Haesoo tilts her hips, Jungkook takes this as a sign to start moving, each roll of his hips earning a whimper from the writhing girl beneath him. A few more slow rolls and Jungkook thrusts harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping ricocheting against the walls.

A gasp escapes your mouth when the captain maneuvers her legs to rest against his chest and the two stop at once, heads shooting up to look for where the voice came from. Haesoo winces when Jungkook pulls out and puts his pants up.

You flee from the kitchen at once, Jungkook abruptly looking for the intruder, he catches a glimpse of your white-clad figure run towards the door and he briefly questions himself who could you possibly be, but the royal seal at the back of your robe is a little too hard to miss.

Seokjin’s eyelids start to droop, sleep finally taking over him when he hears rustling behind. Namjoon, equally alerted by the sound, stands up and looks around. “Jeonha, we might have company. Please stand.”

It’s awfully quiet now, and the two of them are unsure of its because the troop has fallen asleep or… or if the unspeakable happened… They take a few cautious steps in separate ways, eyes scanning every tree surrounding them.

They wake the troop in silence, warning them of possible danger coming their way. Namjoon orders the company to stay more vigilant than usual, especially in the dark where they won’t able to see if an enemy is lurking around or not. Suddenly a guard falls to the ground, a bow lodged in his back.

“Watch the trees!” Seokjin shouts before chaos ensues. Men coming from all directions charge towards them, the sound of steel clashing against steel echoing throughout the forest. Seokjin’s troop is outnumbered greatly, he realizes. They have to escape before everyone gets killed. “Guards, fall back!” his arms are getting tired too but he can’t find the strength to give up, not when he sees his men falling one by one.

Time seems to slow down around him as he watches each royal guard get shot or stabbed to their death. He backs up slowly, bumping into Namjoon. “You ready?” Seokjin asks, finding it difficult to breath. There’s a slit in his sleeves, a cut a few inches long, feeling the blood trickling down his arm. “’Til death, jeonha.” Namjoon nods, wiping away the blood on his lips with his sleeve.

A group surrounds them – ten to two. “Now!” Seokjin commands, screaming  as he charges against the men. He gets kicked at the back, the king falling on his knees. Seokjin’s head bows at the pain, but he plunges his sword to the soil, using it to support his weight as he stands up from his knees. He swings at them, the armed men laughing when he blindly thrusts the sword in the air. He’s been cut again, this time across his pectoral, the stinging pain felt until the tips of his fingers. His vision is getting hazy by the minute. He can’t give up.

Seokjin falls one more time to the ground, his arms bearing all his weight. He sees Namjoon’s body on the side – lifeless. He musters all his strength and attempts to push himself back up one more time. Before he manages to get on his knees, a blade of a sword points at his neck, one more move and the steel will pierce through his skin.

He follows the blade of the sword ‘til he looks up to a masked man with… blonde hair? His eyes narrow at the sight. It was his first time to encounter a man with hair of such color. The man pulls the mask over his head, a healing scar cutting through his right eyebrow and down to his cheek. 

“Yoongi?”

“Told you, you can never keep us out.”

That’s the last thing Seokjin hears, as he feels the blade slicing through his abdominals. He falls to the ground, clutching onto his stomach as he spits out the blood accumulating in his mouth. His chest is heaving, everything is hazy. He’s losing consciousness.

The image of you smiling is the last thing he sees before blacking out.  

© joontier 2020. All rights reserved.

[taglist] : @aretha170​

[jaeminscoffee]

Drapetomania.

Drapetomania- An overwhelming urge to run away.

Pairing- Lee Taeyong x reader.

Genre- Angst, business!au

Word count- 2.73k

Warning- Mention of intake of alcohol, smoking and plans of running away.

Summary- A friend as good as ready to run away with you but you stop him dead in track, wanting solitude away from the cruelty of your world.

Ever felt like wanting to turn a blind eye towards all your responsibilities and just run away? 

The night was cold, gusty winds blowing through the open curtain of the ball room. Sounds of wine and whiskey glasses clattering filled the air. Sniffs of all sorts of cuisines from around the world had everyone's mouth watering. The entrance to the room leading up to the podium had a crimson carpet taut. All dressed fancy, women in gowns, men in tux. 

You yourself adorned a glitter black red flowing gown. Elegantly falling off your shoulder. The dress starting black, fading into red paired with a black bow heels, which was hidden by your gown pleats.

This was your life as the next head of your enterprise. Well, your father's company to be precise. It wasn't bad living in a world full of business talks, money exchange and complacency. 

Your company has earned its name as one of the top three of your country, alongside the Lee and Kim enterprises. The competition between all three companies was cut throat. All united and tranquil though, amidst all sorts of competition and the want to win, you were all acquaintances. 

All your parents dated a long time back, starting from their ancestors, passing through generations now passing onto you.

Business ran in all of your blood. 

As soon as you'd received your masters degree, your parents had immediately given you the post of the assistant manager at their company, not giving you a chance to state what your interests lie in. 

It wasn't half as bad as you'd thought it would be. You made a couple of friends going through the same as you, Lee Taeyong from the Lee Enterprise. Kim Doyoung and his younger brother Kim Jungwoo, from the Kim Corporations. Lastly, Jung Jaehyun from Jung Entertainments, CEO in training, a current partner and your fiancé. 

Yes, the Jung's and your family decided to merge ownership to create a much stronger stake.

This world, as lavish it sounds, snatches all types of freedom from you. Having money doesn't sound that bad, right? Having power sounds great, doesn't it? 

Well, it really isn't, you didn't get to enjoy the adult life you'd hoped for growing up. Not many stay beside you until you spend dollars on them either. The power either scared them or had their jealousy drive them away from you. 

Responsibilities came in one by one as a chain, giving you little to no time to breathe, adding onto that your wedding in a few months. You tried talking your way out of the arranged relationship, but it was futile. It was set once then it's set. No more turning points from there. 

The lad you're getting tied to wasn't bad, neither had he been rude to you, nor does he have that cockiness almost every other business man has. The arrogance was absent too. But rather, he was a gentleman, an absolute eye candy, a hard working young man. You were friends, as previously mentioned. You'd spoken the next day after the arrangement as you'd ran straight to the closest of your friends, Lee Taeyong, to bawl your eyes out of distaste. 

Jaehyun didn't want the marriage either, both of you were still so young, just starting your lives. 

Taeyong had to go through the same, but unlike your parents, they actually listened to him. 

That leads you to today, standing by the casement of your hotel room after exchanging a few formal greetings by the party hall, having Taeyong sit by the bed as your parents made their ments about the future of the company, possibly even announcing your marriage plan. 

"You know this hotel has a huge smoking prohibited board outside right?" Taeyong asked, clearing the air, coughing, watching you take swig after swig of your half burnt cigarette. You laugh at your friends' talks and silent complaints. This was the real you, you back talked, you screamed, you spent money on buying graphic t-shirts rather fancy clothes, you smoked, clubbed on the weekends. The real you was totally in contrast to you in front of the others. You were expected to be perfect, mannerisms on point not to disobey even.

"Yeah? And?" you said, puffing out the tobacco filled air right onto Taeyong's face, chuckling as he dramatically starts choking, exaggerating it a bit too much than required.

"I'm not going to help you when you get arrested," He said, shrugging his shoulders, standing up from the edge of the bed and standing beside you, taking the stick out of your hands, throwing it out of the window. You at him, looking up because of the height difference, "health comes first, princess" he said in feigned politeness, earning a smack on the shoulder as a reply from your end, "Oh fuck you, Lee" you reply with a petty tone having the toxic been taken from between your fingers. 

"So you dragged me all the way up to cuss at me or you have something to tell me?" he asked, breaking the silence taking over the air. You lean forward by the sill, looking outside the window as you let out a sigh, taking a whiff of the blustery night before turning towards Taeyong who already had his focus on you.

"It's about the marriage, and starting today, I-uh..I'll be taking over the company. I don't think I'm ready for it, Tae" you say, looking down at where your dress met the carpeted floor of your hotel room. 

You've had this talk with him multiple times, and he always had the same answer. What could the poor boy say anyways? 

"Y/n listen-" he was cut off by a soft knock on the door, the both of you whip your heads towards the door when the knocking occured again, "The door's unlocked!" you voice out. 

The door knob rattled the slightest, opening the wooden block by a little. "Y/n" a deep voice spoke, the door opening wider to display Jaehyun on the other end, a red velvet tux matching your clothing adorned his structure. "Jaehyun! Hey man!" Taeyong exclaimed, making his way towards the boy who stood with a wide smile after seeing his friend. "Hey Tae! Glad to see you didn't flee away from the party like you did last time" the boys laughed, embracing each other, you letting out a chuckle yourself. 

"Someone here, wouldn't let me run away until i take her along with me, I'm not stating names" Taeyong said jokingly, Jaehyun laughing at it, you poking your tongue out at the boys. 

"Can't have the spotlight taken away from the main, now can we?" Jaehyun said, the boys fist bumping at their adjoined 'tease Y/n until she's fuming' agenda. 

"Back to why I'm here, Your father's expecting you downstairs" Jaehyun looked over at you, your figure leaning against the now closed casement. "But i don't want to go down there" you reply grumpily, making your way towards the bed about to flop down, only to be stopped by Taeyong with his hands around your waist. "You're going to ruin your dress up, doll. Your mom won't let you breathe, then" he said pulling you up as you stand up right. 

"Right, almost forgot, thanks" you say, smoothing out the crease. Taeyong then pushed you towards your other friend, him catching you by your forearm. "Happy acting perfect! Oh also, all the best for the same" Taeyong said, waving as Jaehyun started pulling you out the room, ignoring your protests and whines. 

"Jae, i don't want to! They'll ask me to give speeches and you know how much i hate that!" you complain, trying to put all your weight onto the ground to make it hard for him to pull you, but he kept going with ease. "You don't really have to, we've finished that part of the day, thank the lords"

Jaehyun said, drawing a cross as you laugh at his antics. 

"Then why does father need me?" You see him pause the walk down the hallway towards the marble staircase, too fancy for your liking but already grown accustomed to it. 

"Because, they wanted to discuss something about the marriage" he said, resuming his steps. 

"What about it? There's still 7 months for it" you said, earning a sigh from the lad. This time, he stopped again, turning around to face you, gripping your shoulders in a soft, comforting grip. 

He looked at you hesitantly. Sensing something wrong, you grip his palms that rest on your shoulder, looking at him with a soft expression. "Jae.. Is something wrong?" you ask. 

"Y/n..about the marriage" he started, clearing his throat slowly then looking you straight in the eyes. "They.. My parents and yours.. They decided to.. Uh" he stopped, contemplating whether to let it out or not. 

"They decided to what? Jae just spit it out" you started to grow impatient.

"They decided to prepone our wedding"

-x-

You run down the hallway, towards the huge double doors leading to the party hall, frantically searching for your father, Jaehyun hot on your trail.

"Y/n wait up-"

"Father." you call out, finding him seated beside your mother, sipping on his whiskey. 

"Ah! If it isn't my pride! Y/n, your mom and Mrs.Jung-" he started, you cut him off. 

"Father, could i have a word with you in private?" you say, voice void of any form of emotion. 

"Of course, darling. Excuse me" he looked at the guests seated in the round table, smiling at them as you led him away from the crowd, to the hallway you'd previously run down.

"What is it, sweetheart?" He said, smile so wide it had to be fake. "You prepone the wedding?" your voice slightly quivered, crossing your fingers hoping it wasn't true. 

"Ah yes! I see Jaehyun already told you. I was thinking-" he started off again, with that honey coated voice of his. "why did you do that?" you step back, stumbling a bit. "Because the quicker the marriage, the faster the merge and more the profit, baby. It's all a full circle" he smoothened your hair out, you smack his hands away. "I'm not ready for a marriage yet, father! Two weeks? That's too early!" you scream at him, disbelief evident in your voice. "Oh of course you're ready! You're the daughter of a businessman, you're born ready!" he said, with pride, his shoulders pulled back. 

"I-i'm really not, dad. It's too soon, i don't want it. I'm going to call off the wedding-" you shakily say, turning around to make your way back to where Jaehyun stood, to be pulled back with much force. 

"Listen Y/n, It isn't about what you want or what you don't. You're ready when i say so, you get married when i say so. If you, ever, dare ruin our partnership with the Jungs, you see what you'll have to face." he said with a glare, giving you one last look before pausing to correct his bowtie, making his way back to the ballroom. 

Taeyong who had just so happened to make his way down the stairs, had unintentionally eavesdropped the entire conversation. He'd wanted nothing more than just to pull you in close, but after scanning the room, he saw your fiance standing there, by the corner, looking at Y/n then at him.

Taeyong nodded his head forward, wanting Jaehyun to come in and soothe you with comfort talks, but the latter shook his head. 

Your soon to be husband would probably be the last person you'd want to see, and so he faded back into the crowd. 

Taeyong hesitated first, having two successors seen together at a party isn't a news that should reach anyone, unless you're engaged, but seeing you let out a feeble sob, pulled his last string, and he made his way quick down the stairs, the hallway, pulling you into a tight embrace as soon as he reached you. 

"T-Taeyo-" you start between your feeble sobs, controlling yourself to not have a full on breakdown and create a scene at the party. "Shh doll, don't say anything, i heard it all" his voice calming, rubbing your back his palms in a comforting manner. "It's too e-early, Tae, i haven't even s-started living my life to th-the fullest yet and here-" you pause to inhale deeply, "-here i am, getting pulled in work after work, cutting my dreams out c-completely" you sob harder into his chest. 

"It's alright.. " he said, slowly starting to make his way out the crowded area, back up the stairs to where your rooms were located, unlocking your door upon reaching. 

"Is it? Of course it isn't Tae!" you let out louder now having the freedom to breathe normally, speak out all your pent up frustration. 

"It's just the stakes he cares about.. Not me, never has it been me and never will it be me." you spoke up before he could. 

"It was always about business. Never about me personally, and that hurts for thinking." you stop, burying your head into your palm, crying your heart out. 

Taeyong stood there, in front of you with a saddened glaze hooding his dark hazel eyes. The words you let out came from a very heartbroken, left to feel the pain alone girl. 

This is the harsh world of business and entertainment. 

He made his way closer to you, kneeling down in front of you, placing his hands over your legs to get you to look at him. No vail. 

"Y/n..doll, you see, we were forced into this world prior to adulthood, no consent whatsoever, we're just robot's basically, programmed to be perfect in all aspects." he started slow. "But there's nothing we can do about it"

With that the room went silent. The only sounds being from the loud acoustic downstairs and your sobs. 

You get up from your bed all of a sudden, sadness now turning to desperation and want for freedom. You make your way into the closet, taking out your already packed luggage, stuffing in whatever was left outside. 

"I'm really not ready-" "Y/n? What are you doing?" he said, voice panicked watching his friend throw random fabrics in. "And I'm tired of this-" "Y/n stop-" "-all of this" "Y/n-" 

"I should've done this long back-"

Taeyong grew even more panicked every second passing by, it only worsened when he saw you take the luggage and make your way towards the door. He took a hold of your hand in a tight grip as you felt the air turn black around you. It was hard to breathe with all the thoughts running through your head.

"Our world." you start, not trying to break out of his grip, slowly placing your hand over his.

"Our world Taeyong.. It's too cruel, harsh and dark even." you continue, stopping midway to look around you and then back at him, "none of us are safe in this world, none of us are happy, truly." you say removing his hands gently from the grip he had on yours.

Turning around once again, Taeyong was quicker. He caught your hands the second time, in a softer grip. 

"I know." 

"I know that our world is cruel. We don't experience the same as the others but Y/n..if you'd maybe, just maybe, -"

"Maybe if you'd let me, i could be your safe space in this harsh world" 

Taeyong stated, looking at you with nothing but sincerity. 

You contemplate for a while, option tempting. You could run away and not be alone. But that would only ruin his image. You blink your tears away, shaking your head. 

"No Tae.. You don't deserve to waste your life following me. You deserve so much better than that" you said, breaking free from his grip once again, smiling at him with a heavy heart before making your way out the door.

Taeyong felt his own eyes glaze over, watching his friend walk out the door, maybe now towards the exit and out towards freedom. 

When Taeyong looked at you, he saw a reflection of himself. A helpless, broken young adult wanting nothing more than love and solitude. 

But now that you're gone, Taeyong was left alone, with no one to confide in. 

And worse, he was left without a reflection. 

[cap-winter-barnes]

No Matter What - Dean Winchester x Reader

2K WRITER & READER CHALLENGE 

Here it is, my fic for ‘Amanda’s 2K Write & Reader Challenge’ using the prompt “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking”. This is the first piece of writing I have ever done for a challenge and I absolutely loved doing it.

If you enjoy it, please feel free to check out my other work. My requests are always open. And whilst you’re at it, go and give @amanda-teaches​ a follow and check out her work too, she writes awesome stuff!

Warnings: angst, teeth-rotting fluff

A/N: Based lightly upon the episode ‘Regarding Dean’ (12x11). This episode utterly broke my heart so obviously had to use it for a sad(ish) fic.

Four hours. That is how long it has been since Dean left for food. The motel room lays in silence as I anxiously await his return. Sam retired to bed not too long ago, desperate for some rest, with the sweet promise of Dean’s safe homecoming as his departing words. Sitting in our bed, fully dressed and boots tied securely to my feet, I think of all the possible worst case scenarios. My mind running amok with fear at the absence of the man I love. Without Dean the room we have been sharing is cold, evident by the way the hairs on my arms stand on edge, goosebumps rising on my skin. Rolling the sleeves of his plaid shirt down over my hands, I try and compose myself.

Dean is a hunter, the best there is, and he can handle himself in a fight. If anything were to have happened to him, he’d be alright, he always was. With that sliver of hope in my mind and the knowledge that Dean knows his way around the supernatural, I start to relax slightly. Glancing at the alarm clock on the worn chest of drawers that shows the time as a few minutes past midnight, an involuntary yawn leaves my body. I try and fight the fatigue that has been weighing me down, but I know that the attempt will be futile. With the added stress and worry of Dean not coming back as expected, my body has become overridden with exhaustion. Leaning back into the softness of the pillows behind my back and the prospect of Dean returning safely back to us, I fall into a light slumber.

The repetitive sound of my name being called is what drags me from my sleep, a sleep plagued with terrible nightmares. Slowly opening my eyes to the silhouette of Sam in the doorway makes my body spring upwards from its resting position. A pain shoots through my neck, the realisation that I had in fact slept awkwardly, with my back propped against the wall, and a pillow haphazardly strewn sideways across the headboard. Rubbing at the sore area, I make eye contact with the younger Winchester before taking in his positive demeanour. In his hand, he clutches his phone, shaking it for emphasis when I direct my attention to it. Immediately I forget about the aches which radiate through me and sit upright.

“Sammy-“  Before I can get another word in, he interrupts me, easing my nerves, replacing them with relief.

“He’s alive.” His statement is accompanied by a chuckle of disbelief and a shake of his head. “He’s at Waldo’s. Leave in ten?”

“Make it five, Samuel.”

His laugh, so rarely heard, echoes as he leaves the room, walking across the balcony back to his own room. “Okay, five. And I’m driving.” Hearing his receding voice, I remove myself from the bed and make myself more presentable in preparation for Dean’s excuses.

Upon entering Waldo’s Waffles, both Sam and I, are met with the sight of Dean stuffing his face full of a combination of waffle, banana, blueberry and whipped cream. A lightness filled by heart at seeing him in one piece, no blood to be seen. But there was a shadow of doubt looming over everything, something was wrong. Dean’s blue jacket is caked in mud and dirt, his right sleeve completely covered in the stuff. His face is filthy, dirt embedded into the lines around his eyes and nose, scratches scattered across his cheeks. What had happened last night? I watch on as Sam approaches his brother, rattling a bottle of pills before throwing them into his awaiting hands. Surely this couldn’t be a hangover? It isn’t uncommon for Dean to drink, yet venturing out alone for a night of drinking and returning the next morning with a hangover? That is something he hasn’t done in years.

Eventually snapping out of my moment of thought, I walk over to where they both sit, Dean once again shoving food into his mouth. Noticing my presence, Dean perks up, a typical cheeky grin spreading across his face. He enthusiastically pulls out the vacant stool next to him, gesturing for me to take a seat. I can’t help but smile as he does so, especially when he places a kiss to my cheek. Sam has an expression of utter confusion on his face, glancing repetitively between the both of us. Shrugging my shoulders once Dean’s attention is once again directed at his waffles, supposing he did have a hangover, he wouldn’t normally be so cheerful.

Without looking in my general direction, Dean nudges a full plate of waffles topped with strawberries and an abundance of whipped cream towards me. A fork hangs between his middle and ring fingers, the platinum band that is placed on the latter of the two, shines under the fluorescent lighting. It is still an amazement that it hasn’t gotten scratched or required cutting off from his finger. Before we were married, the discussion of the ring was paramount, but Dean was set on wearing one. His reasoning being that without one it wouldn’t feel true. At his words my heart had fluttered in my chest and continues to do so every time I catch a glimpse of the precious metal on his hand. I take the fork, twirling between my own fingers, watching the rings on my own finger as I do so.

Both brothers delve into conversation about the current case we have been working as I tuck into the waffles that sit before me. Considering I haven’t eaten since before Dean’s disappearance last night, I suddenly find myself starving. Each bite an overwhelming sensation of sweetness and sugar. Every now and again, Dean switches his gaze to me, a soft smile on his lips as he observes me enjoying the food. I listen intently to the boys and the more I do, the more my appetite decreases, worry and concern settles in, sending a shiver through my body. The more Dean says about not remembering his night and his assumption of blacking out, the more I feel nauseous. Dropping the fork onto the plate, I push it as far away from me as I can.

As a distraction, I involve myself within the ongoing discussion.

“Dean, you seriously don’t remember anything about what happened to you last night?” He momentarily thinks over this before responding.

“Nope.” He runs his hands over his face, and it is then, that I truly see how tired he really is.

“Baby, why don’t we get you back to the motel so you can get some rest?” Like a child, Dean just nods his head in agreement, standing from the counter and making his way towards the exit.

“Did you pay?” Sam chimes in with the question as Dean passes him, the younger sibling now standing from his own stool.

“Oops, no. Right.” Myself and Sam make eye contact in that moment, both filled with concern for Dean. But for his sake, we say nothing, choosing to keep this between ourselves for the time being.

Once in the impala, it becomes clear that something is most definitely wrong with Dean. Starting with not putting the car into reverse, to forgetting the details of the current case. After a heated argument between the two brothers, it was settled upon that Sam would contact Rowena in the hopes of discovering the cause of Dean’s possible amnesia.

Back at the motel, Sam stays in the impala to call Rowena, away from the listening ears of his brother. The way that Dean wanders aimlessly from the parking lot to the building itself has me feeling uneasy. Even more so as I observe him approach the wrong room. Jogging over to him, I take him by the arm and swiftly guide him over to the correct door.

“All these dumps look the same.” Dean’s disgruntled demeanour would usually cause me to laugh, however, in this situation it’s not even close to cracking a smile.

“I know, baby. I know.” Tears are now threatening to spill as I open the motel room door. Clearing my throat, I advise Dean to go and take a shower to freshen up, then after get some well deserved sleep.

As soon as the bathroom door closes behind him, my façade breaks and the tears begin to fall. Putting on a brave face whilst watching the man I love slowly forgetting things that have occurred over the last few days, has taken a great toll on me. Like at Waldo’s, a wave of nausea hits me and it only forces me to bawl harder, sitting down on the unmade bed. Through the bathroom door, I can hear Dean undressing, his clothes hitting the cold linoleum floor. A moment of silence is followed by the wooden door opening a fraction.

“Hey, Y/N?” I hurriedly wipe the fallen tears from my face.

“Hmm?” There he stands in the open doorway of the rundown bathroom, torso bare, a nervous expression on his face.

“When,” he frowns before speaking again, “when did I get a tattoo?” Towards the end of his question he perks up, amusement clear in his tone. With his hands, he gestures to the anti-possession mark on his upper chest. At this, I can’t help the small smile that appears on my face, yet at the same time, it fills me with dread.

Standing from my place on the bed, I cross the room to stand in front of him, taking his face in my hands.

“It’s your anti-possession mark, Dean. That,” I take my right hand, placing my fingertips to the black ink marking his skin, “protects you from being possessed by a demon.” I refrain from bringing up the period in which Dean was a demon for a time. Glancing back to his face, I realise that he looks shocked.

“D-demons are real?” At his words, I can no longer stop the tears from tumbling down my cheeks. Again, I break down as I pull his body closer, holding him against me tightly.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I know, it’s okay.”

“No matter what happens, I will always love you. I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking. That look of worry, concern, all of that. You’ve got nothing to worry about, everything’s going to work out fine.”

Dean’s hands are on my cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the tears. Placing a chaste kiss to my forehead, he again holds me tighter, whispering forever promises of his love.

It has only been a day and a half since Dean’s ‘amnesia’ began taking full force. Yet, I will trade anything to go back to yesterday. With the arrival of Rowena and the discovery that Dean was under a witch’s spell, things soon began to take a turn for the worst.

Awaking this morning to the sight of Dean twisting his wedding band around his finger takes the air out of my lungs. He sits on the opposite side of the motel room, the room that is scattered with sticky notes labelling a majority of the items within it. Long hours of research and tracking to find the witch responsible for this spell, had me falling asleep uncomfortably in the armchair by the door. Dean had occupied the bed, falling into a deep slumber by ten o’clock.

“Why do I have this?” My worst fears have finally come true and as Dean raises his head, my heart breaks completely in two. As usual, I cannot bring myself to lie to him or cause him to feel guilty.

“It’s, erm, it’s a wedding ring.” A scoff leaves his mouth as I swallow down the lump in my throat.

“Am I married?” Snapping my head up to look at him, he realises what he has said. “Am I married to you?”

Half-heartedly, I raise my left hand, indicating the two rings that situate themselves on my ring finger, trying with all my might to not cry again.

“Well, I’m glad it’s you. You’re beautiful.”

A smile is all I can bring to give him in return, instead I excuse myself and retreat to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. In the safety of the small tiled room, I cry until there is nothing left to cry.

Exiting the bathroom, I am met with the sight of Dean, Sam and Rowena, crowded at the door. Before I can ask what is happening, I am interrupted by Dean’s rough voice.

“Who’s this?”

And there it is.

Deciding that it would be best for Rowena to take care of Dean, with no close emotional attachment to him, I accompany Sam to deal with the witches. The agreement was that if Sam did not return within half an hour, I was to enter as back up. Hence me now sneaking my way through an open window on the ground floor of the house.

But with the thought of Dean’s safety and wellbeing on my mind, I am greatly distracted.

Although I have many years of experience with hunting witches, this coven is one of the strongest I have encountered yet, and I am unprepared. Proving true, when I come face to face with the female of the group. Before I can aim my gun, she has me spiralling across the room, into a wooden bookcase. My vision is blurry and my head feels heavy as I try and raise my gun in her direction. But it is becoming increasingly difficult to keep my eyes open. A final unsuccessful attempt of moving has me drained and I succumb to the darkness that is trying to overtake my vision and mind.

“Hey, Y/N?” Everything sounds far away as I come around. The feeling of someone’s hand on my cheek grounding me. “Y/N! Hey, can you hear me?”

“De?” That was definitely Dean’s voice.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Opening my eyes fully, I am met with the sight of a smiling Dean, although his eyes are filled with worry.

“You remember me?”

“Of course I remember you, how could I forget my beautiful wife?” A laugh escapes me alongside some tears, although this time happy tears.

“Don’t I always promise you, that no matter what, everything is going to be alright?” I nod in agreement. “And don’t I always promise you that I will always love you?”

“Yeah, Dean, you do.”

He pulls me into a hug, although the most uncomfortable hug in the current position in which we are situated.

“And I’m glad I’m married to you. You’re beautiful.”

[kvngjoong]

she was a rainbow [one - hwang hyunjin]

→ hwang hyunjin x f!you, university!au, in which hyunjin discovers that his feelings aren’t as easy to understand as he first may have thought → 5.8k+, brief smut halfway through, angst and fluff, nothing that deep

part 1 of 3

“You have a crush on her, Hyunjin,” Minho says, sitting across from him at the table in the library. The elder is responding to a string of compliments directed at you, mostly sick of hearing how amazing Hyunjin though you were. “Please can you tell her that you love her and not me.”

Hyunjin frowns. “Love her?”

“That’s what it is, right?” Minho comments.

“Love?”

“Yeah, you love her.”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “I don’t think I love her. She’s just… a good friend of mine. Love? No. I can’t love someone. I’m only 21.”

“You think your age means you can’t love someone?” Minho questions.

Hyunjin doesn’t like cold winter nights.  

Compared to everything else, he hates them the most, but he finds himself walking down the path with snow crunching beneath his shoes to clear his mind. He hears being at one with nature is beneficial. He hears that spending time alone is also beneficial as you can focus on what you want. 

Hyunjin can’t do that, though. His mind is always filled with things he should be doing. Today he’s thinking about his parents. He works two jobs, you know, to help out with his two younger siblings. No one would know that if they took one look at him - he’s an athlete. He’s given everything on a silver platter. 

He’s only in the soccer league for his university but somehow it gives everyone a quick judgement - he’s easy to dislike. He won’t lie, he knows girls look over at him in classes and it makes him smirk at the time, though he comes home lonely at the end of the day. He wonders if maybe someone will appreciate him for him, because at the moment no one really does. 

No one. 

And do you know how fucking much that sucks?

Hyunjin works two jobs and gets paid barely anything. He had to stick to wearing sports gear because he can’t afford anything else, he isn’t just some obnoxious athlete who wants to show off to everyone how talented he is. He hates it all. He doesn’t even believe his parents, his family, truly appreciate what he does. They don’t see him sleeping three hours a day because he has essays due and books to read. 

His head hurts. He doesn’t realise how much it’s affecting him until he trips on some iced snow, sending him toppling forward and onto his hands which are burnt from how cold the snow and ice is. He stays laying in the snow for a moment, eyes burning but still managing to become glassy. 

He stays there, and he cries. He lets his feelings get to him for the first time in a few months and bawls his eyes out in the middle of the night on a pavement covered in snow. He’s reached his last legs. He doesn’t want to be here anymore. He hates everything here and—

“Hey.” Hyunjin freezes at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. The feminine voice makes him ponder - he doesn’t know who it belongs to. He remembers voices well, too. He blinks a few times before turning his head towards the voice. “Are you...okay?”

Hyunjin is mesmerised by your eyes for a moment. He notices the colours which are picked up but the streetlights and the moon, the way your hair falls down onto your face and how you show concern for him - a stranger. It’s polite to ask if he’s okay but he’s fallen over on the track before and never seen this look. 

“Yeah,” he says softly. He clears his throat as he pushes himself up. He remains dismissive of you – he’s honestly scared that he has shown emotions to you and that you’ll use it against him. 

You’re shorter than him; he feels like a giant beside you really. A protective stance falls on him for a moment as he wonders why you’re out here on your own, but falls when he’s brought back to the real world. 

“You cut your head,” you tell him. You gesture towards his forehead and take a step closer, but Hyunjin steps back slowly. He brings a hand towards his head and feels the blood dripping from it, which he wipes with his finger tips. “I can help you get home if you want?”

Hyunjin feels stupid for having to rely on you, so he declines your request. He just wants to go home and sleep, really, his head is pounding and he’s close to crying again. “I’m fine.”

A thought occurs to him as he turns around. He shouldn’t leave you without saying thank you - he sounds rude and his parents would scold him for this kind of behaviour. They’d also scold him if they found out he left a girl on her own in the streets when it was late at night and so cold, too. 

He forgets it, he shouldn’t fake being nice. It won’t get him anywhere. He’ll have to fake it for the rest of the night and he can’t do that. Hwang Hyunjin is over being fake and he’d rather walk away from that girl and leave her there, which is exactly what he does. He heads home with a raging headache and vision blurred. He doesn’t know if you made it home okay and he doesn’t really care too much either. 

If it makes you feel any better, Hyunjin didn’t even check his forehead for the damage he’d done before collapsing onto his bed and falling straight asleep, only to wake up the next day with blood all over his pillow. Honestly, he didn’t have the money to wash it so just turned it over and ignored it, placing a plaster on the wound before rushing off to his 10am class. 

His 10am class, based on international relations between America and China, doesn’t go by too easily. He still has a pounding headache and he can’t seem to get the previous night off his mind since it keeps replaying. He has too many questions - the first of which is who are you?

Being in the sports teams means he’s friends with a lot of people. He won’t act like that’s not the case, because it is - he knew too many people to keep up with. He doesn’t recall ever seeing you though, because he swears that he would remember your face. 

You didn’t look new though either. You knew what you were doing out in the cold that night and you knew your way around. You knew that you could approach Hyunjin which meant you must have seen him in a sports event before, since Hyunjin isn’t the most approachable person to exist in the world. His stern look usually drives people away from him, not to him. 

So Hyunjin spends the hour searching for you instead, using every means he can to just work out who you are and why you were walking on his late night/early morning path the same day he was. Privacy issues, you know?

He thinks he’s successful when he comes across a blank profile but soon realises that the gender doesn’t match, nor does the language. He goes through as many society pages he can to solidify some kind of person for you but doesn’t get anywhere with what he does. It makes him almost crazy as he puts down his phone with four minutes to spare, staring down to the professor with wide eyes as he realises the lecture was on coursework. Oh well, he’d do it with a few days to spare from the due date anyway - he has bigger problems on his mind. 

Bigger problems not being the pillow that was covered in blood, nor the shift at work he has later. 

He does try to forget your face for a while, and he thinks that the lecture’s done it for him when he starts to worry about what books he needs to be borrowing from the library before everyone else got their hands on them. He’s focused on a title of a book all the way from his lecture to his dorm, but the second he looks in the mirror and sees the awful looking plaster on his head he’s reminded that you saw him out there last night.

And maybe you didn’t know your way around, or know who he was. 

Hyunjin goes straight back to wondering where you would have disappeared to, peeling off the plaster a little slower than he should have to feel a particular sting on his skin that made up for the dick move he pulled yesterday. 

You were cute. Was that his motive? Was he so deprived of human contact that the second someone who was relatively cute spoke with him, he had to know exactly what they were doing and where they were doing, lest know who they were? Most possibly. He’s straight back on his phone as soon as he can be, forgetting the shower he planned on having and instead scrolling through SNS to try and find someone who vaguely matched your appearance. 

He’s almost late for work, that’s how long he spends on his phone. He forgets to charge it too, and since he had lent his portable charger to Woojin a few weeks ago and Woojin had never given it back to him, Hyunjin was going to have to deal with going to work with 10% battery and the constant frustration that he still couldn’t find you no matter what he did.

He was mad, and the poor drive through customers could see that as much as anyone else.

Hyunjin had run all the way from his dorm to the local McDonald’s that he’d taken a job when he first started here. He arrived a minute before his shift started and went straight to his position at the first window of the drive through, grabbing the headset from the girl who was on the way out. He didn’t want to be there. Every shift he hated with a burning passion. 

He still managed to give every driver a fake smile, hair pushed back under his McDonald’s cap that he also hated with a passion. As usual, he’d have people at the university come through and compliment him on his looks (only to drive away laughing for whatever reason they could find), and each time he’d see another person he recognised his grip on the card machine would only get tighter. 

The only thought that kept him grounded? Well, it was you.

He ignored the complaints from his manager with a roll of his eyes, his boredom occupied by thoughts of you and your pretty face that he was slowly developing a crush on. It was easy to stare at a screen and listen to someone read out an order, even easy to blur out the sound of a middle aged man’s voice that he really didn’t care for. 

The hours go slow nonetheless. By the time it reaches 10pm and the night shift people are starting to arrive, he’s wishing he had a phone to accompany his walk home. He forgot to bring a coat in his rush earlier, so the only relief he has from the bitter wind is his long sleeved shirt that smells like the kitchen grease. It’s lucky that not many people are out on a Thursday when he walks home from work. It’s dead silent on his walk back through the icy paths. 

Hyunjin is careful over the patches of white on the paths this time, keeping an eye on his footsteps despite the pain in his heels and lower back. Thoughts of his bed flood his mind more than you did earlier, and his eyes start to fall shut with each step. 

He’s lucky that the sound of some ice snapping brings him from his tiredness, since he looks up to make sure that whoever was cracking the ice wasn’t going to come at him with an icicle. 

No, they’re not coming at him. He thought it was just him on the lit path, but his eyes fall on the one person he would have hoped to be on the path at this time. Or not. The same protectiveness fills Hyunjin’s senses at the sight of you walking down the path, no hat or scarf to keep you warm, your jacket unbuttoned and hands shoved into your pockets

He’s not seen someone that pretty since technically yesterday, but ever. A smile erupts on his face when he realises this is his opportunity to talk to you and see how you are, find out more about you. He couldn’t care for the time, nor the hairs on his arms which stand on end, he wants to talk to you and he finds a sudden surge of confidence when you look up from the ground and straight to him. 

He doesn’t think you’ll recognise him, though he assumes you caught his eyes because he was the one staring at you before. You carry on walking towards him, like he does with you, and you both meet somewhat in the middle with about a metre between the two of you.

“Hey,” Hyunjin greets, smile still stuck to him though disappearing slightly with his words, “it’s me, from yesterday.”

You hum, gesturing to his forehead. “I don’t believe that you dressed that properly.”

“I put a plaster on it,” Hyunjin tells you.

“You smacked your head on ice and tried to make it better with a plaster? You’re crazy.” Hyunjin is less apprehensive when you reach forward to touch his head this time. He winces when the tips of your fingers reach the edge of the wound, though he watches your eyes intently the whole time. You roll your eyes as you take your hand away. “It’s probably infected. You know how much pain you’re gonna be in if you don’t fix it?”

Hyunjin shrugs, readjusting his cap. He pushes his slightly overgrown hair back under his cap and pulls it down slightly to hide the cut. “It’s just a cut. I’m fine.”

“You’re fine?”

“I hurt myself a lot.” Hyunjin realises his words are a little less descriptive when he sees your brows furrow. He stutters a cover for his words when you start to look a little more concerned. “I mean, I play soccer. I get hurt a lot when I play. This isn’t that bad.”

You nod at his clarification, though still seem skeptical. “Why were you out here so late last night?”

“Why were you?”

“Touche.” 

Hyunjin takes your silence as a defensive mechanism. You may not know who he is after all - if you were really aware of who Hwang Hyungjin was, you’d have been asking him to listen to your stories and make him feel sorry for you so that you could post about it the next day on SNS. He takes your silence, your awkward stare down at the ground, as an opportunity to create something new. 

“I’m Hyunjin,” he tells you, catching your attention from the ground again, “I like walking at night to clear my head. It makes me feel like I have less problems. Plus, I like the cold.”

Your smile is prettier than he could have imagined it to be. “You like the cold?”

“It’s refreshing. It makes me feel like… I have feelings. ‘Cause when I’m cold it reminds me that there’s a whole world around me that I tend to ignore for most of the day.”

“You sound like you need a therapist, Hyunjin.”

“Probably,” Hyunjin replies. He looks behind you, checking to see if anyone else is around. He can only see a bird or two on the grass behind you. The rest of the world isn’t paying attention to him. “Do you wanna... Do something?”

Hyunjin’s heart drops when you don’t answer immediately. Forwardness usually worked on people. He can tell but your blank expression that you were not expecting to hear him say that. He still finds some hope when you check behind you too, then turn back to him with the beginning of a smile. 

Hyunjin will end up having a bit of a complex if you keep giving into him so easily. “We just met.”

“It’s cold,” he counters, “and we’re both out here for absolutely no reason. If you’re out here for the same reason as me then I imagine you want something to take your mind off things, too.”

You’re apprehensive to reply again, though this time Hyunjin’s heart beats a little quicker. You nod once, then again, stepping forward so that you’re next to him. “Sure. Let’s take our minds off things.”

Hyunjin nods, bottom lip pulled between his teeth as you look up to him. He debates linking your arm, though given you’re nothing like the girls he usually talks to, he won’t be doing that any time soon. Instead, he walks beside you at a reasonable pace, waiting for you to speak in case he makes you feel uncomfortable. 

And you do, eventually. A little past the first building as you reach the gates to the main road, you start to tell him that you’re outside so that you can think, too. How you saw him fall yesterday and felt bad that you didn’t do more. That you were new to the university and wanted to explore the grounds whilst you thought through things instead of staring at a blank wall. Eventually he gets to hear what he wanted the entire time. 

“My name is (Y/N), by the way.”

And oh is that a name Hyunjin exhausts with every opportunity that he can. He likes the way it leaves his lips, the sound it makes when he calls it across the room when he notices you from a distance. He even likes the way it looks as a contact on his phone. 

He’ll stare at it for hours as he lays in bed, unsure whether he should text you or call you, or just have another look through your Instagram to see your pretty face again. He’ll find himself looking through your conversations, admiring the pictures you’ve been posting, reading through the comments on your post for longer than he used to spend wondering how much he hated himself. 

He doesn’t walk the paths of the campus under the moonlight anymore, and instead he spends it with your words or your thoughts. 

“You have a crush on her, Hyunjin,” Minho says, sitting across from him at the table in the library. The elder is responding to a string of compliments directed at you, mostly sick of hearing how amazing Hyunjin though you were. “Please can you tell her that you love her and not me.”

Hyunjin frowns. “Love her?”

“That’s what it is, right?” Minho comments. 

“Love?” 

“Yeah, you love her.”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “I don’t think I love her. She’s just… a good friend of mine. Love? No. I can’t love someone. I’m only 21.”

“You think your age means you can’t love someone?” Minho questions. His glare is enough to indicate to Hyunjin that he’s said something wrong, so he panics as he tries to backtrack to a reasonable point in the conversation.

He knew he wasn’t in love, because as much as he would have told himself that he liked the way you looked at him and enjoyed your company, he wouldn’t be in a position to admit that you had his heart and that wasn’t going to change. 

No one had his heart. Hyunjin made sure of that.

It might not have been obvious when he would spend nights with you on the couch, head in your lap, heart beating for you and only you. He would ignore the thoughts going through his head each time you smiled at him, the distant memory of Minho’s words never truly leaving his mind. Each time your skin touched his he would remember that word. 

Love.

Could he love you?

No, that wasn’t right. Everyone had the ability to love someone. Hyunjin knew that. 

Would he love you?

That a decision that he had to make on his own, when he was ready to. But when does anyone actually understand if they are truly ready to love someone?

Hyunjin’s biggest fear, admittedly, is that one day he’ll look at you and the feeling of wholeness will disappear. When he stares up at the ceiling at night, a flurry of possibilities meeting him, Hyunjin’s chest starts to hurt a little. He thinks that there’s a chance his question would already be answered, especially when he sits across from you and has his chin on his hand, listening to the words you sound out so carefully. 

“I got invited to this thing, actually,” you tell him, sat on the corner of his kitchen counter. He looks up to you with a raised brow, urging for you to continue. “You can come, if you like?”

Hyunjin hums, placing the other slice of bread on his half completed sandwich. He picks it up and takes a bite, continuing as he chews with a hand covering his mouth. “What is it?”

“A party. You know, the kinda generic stuff. We just have to show up and talk to some people, stay if it’s okay, then leave if it’s kinda boring.”

“Sounds good,” Hyunjin tells you, feigning his enjoyment of the possibility of going to the one type of party he always tried to avoid. 

He thinks that it might be easier, considering that you’re going to be there and you make things easier for him. It was easy for him to act like he was enjoying himself when you’re by his side and it’s your smile that he’s directing all his attention at. So his agreement is purely on the basis that he’ll be with you.

You’re like his favourite song.

He listens to you on repeat, finding new sounds he didn’t hear before and a twist in the lyrics that make more sense each time he hears them. He starts you again each time you come to an end to savour the way you exhilarate every one of his senses and how his nerves go into overdrive each time they’re graced with your presence. His heart matches yours, every fibre of his being tailored to fit yours perfectly. 

His hands are entwined with yours, eyes full of admiration as you sing along to whatever is playing in the background. He truly forgets about everything around him. The people whispering that he’s with another girl, that he has found someone who will put up with him, that there is someone who can cope with listening to him each and every day. He doesn’t listen to them, only to you. 

He smiles the pain of the words he hears away, attention flickering between how you made him feel better, and you. You made him someone different. You made him feel like Hwang Hyunjin, not soccer player Hyunjin, not athlete Hyunjin, not even employee Hyunjin. Just Hwang Hyunjin without the labels that were plastered all over him. 

As you pull him into the spare bedroom of your friends place, he starts to forget everything he heard and returns just to you once more. 

“You’re pretty cute, Hyunjin,” you tell him, lips pressed to the corner of his. Your hands reach for the inside of the leather jacket he was wearing, peeling it from his chest and down to his arms. He catches what you’re trying to do and helps you out, pulling off his jacket and throwing it to the side. 

“Cute?” he repeats, fingers twisted in your hair. He gently pulls you back from him, eyes narrowed in response. “Only cute? I’m more than that.”

He’s so infatuated by your giggle that he lets you push him back against the door, fingers running through his own hair whilst your hips push as close to his as possible. “So fucking cute.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, reaching down to press a kiss to your lips this time. He stops just before your skin touches, revealing in the slight whine you give him in response. “And you’re so fucking beautiful.”

He wonders why he never kissed you before. His whole body is on fire with each of your little touches, and somewhere in between he manages to get his hands on the door to lock it behind him. He’d have happily continued to kiss you through the night, but he realises just after you that your bodies are both asking for something more. 

You tug at his belt, fingers undoing it with ease and following with his button and zipper. Hyunjin is surprised to see you spit on your hand once your done; he hisses when your hand slips through the waistband of his boxers, taking him fully into your hand beneath the black material. You look back up to his face, studying his features for all of a second before pulling him back onto you and leaving him with too many things to concentrate on. 

He did not think, in any way, shape, or form, that he would be locked in a random bedroom with you, making out with you as you jacked him off and relieved an unknown sexual desire he had in the back of his head this whole time. 

“You’re big,” you mumble against his lips breaking your contact for the briefest of seconds to build up his ego that had been deflated for so long. He tries to cut off his responsive moan but you’re too aware of it. “Do you want me to get you off, Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin nods rapidly. He should have told you that he’d have done anything for you to let him reciprocate it, but it slips from his mind when your hand slides down his length, your thumb flicking over his tip before you return down to his shaft. Even he was surprised how hard he was already. 

But it was you, so he really should have seen it coming.

He tried his very best to be quiet but the way you made him feel was too much. It wasn’t that you were any better than others, he thought you really didn’t have that much experience anyway, it was just that it was you doing it to him. Stroking his cock up and down, telling him that it would feel good if he filled you up, asking him if next time you could use your mouth. 

Hyunjin can barely move past the one occasion he’s got here, yet alone think to a next time. He’s hung up over the slight twists of your hand and effortless touches, he can feel his vision slowly turning whiter and whiter until he sees a light and he’s cumming over your hand and the inside of his boxers. 

If he wasn’t living on the end of liquid confidence and so enthralled by you, he’d would never have asked you pushed you back against the door and reciprocated it, like he was meant to tell you he wanted to earlier. 

His dreams would forever be flooded with the look you gave him from above, one of your legs over his shoulder as he nipped at the inside of your thighs and moved on to do the exact same to your clit. He never expected you to taste so sweet. No one else had done before. 

So every time he closed his eyes he was stuck with the lock you gave him as he laid his tongue flat against you, every time he was met with radio silence he heard your moans, and he never found anything which matched your taste.

And part of him hoped it was the same for you, too.

Though he couldn’t guarantee anything. He walked home with you under the stars, arm around your shoulder, people around the completely oblivious to the world they were living in. Hyunjin can only look at you and smile, and wonder if he’s the only thought running through your head too. He’s not shy to kiss you a few more times on the way home, nor when he crawls into bed next to you and passes out from tiredness with his head on your shoulder. 

His thoughts of you only get more intense when he wakes up beside you and you’re cuddled up to him like you were the one with all the love for him. His heart almost melts, though he’s forced to leave early when he remembers he has a day shift at the reception for a bridal shop in town, his other job that pays him a little better but offers worse hours for him. 

Does he hope you’ll be there when he gets home? Yes. 

Is he left disappointed when you text call him twenty minutes before he’s meant to be home and tell him that you had an emergency thing to attend to, but you’d probably be free later? Kinda.

Hyunjin lets it go because he believes you when you say you’ll be free later, and he believes you when you text him and tell him that instead of that evening you’ll meet him for lunch the next day. It gives him an opportunity for some planning which he hasn’t been able to do for a while. 

“Do you think she’ll like them?” Hyunjin asks Minho, shoving the bouquet in his friend’s face so he has to smell it. He ignore Minho’s dirty look at carries on anyway. “I’m going to tell her that I like her.”

Minho frowns. “You haven’t told her yet?”

“I thought it was too soon.”

“You thought it was too soon?” Minho repeats, brows furrowed. He looks around the half empty library, then leans closer to Hyunjin so that he hears every word clearly. “You, my friend, are a fucking idiot.”

Hyunjin reenacts Minho’s previous look. The flowers are placed down onto the table and his lips turn downwards. “Why? Did I do something wrong?”

“You are going to tell her you like her when you clear do more than like her,” Minho says, “you have to be honest with her. Don’t tell her you like her when you love her.”

“I don’t.”

“Huh?”

Hyunjin shrugs. “I don’t love her. It would be impossible for me to love her. I think she’s hot, I like spending time with her, and she’s my best friend. I like her.”

“If you’re going to confess to her like that, then she’s gonna be pretty hurt.”

“I’m not going to lie to her.” Hyunjin means what he says, but not in the way he says it. “I don’t love her. It would take me more time. I want her to know how I feel now, though. I like her. I want to confess that to her.”

Because you are his favourite song, after all. 

He wants everyone to know about it. He wanted everyone to see him sit you down at a table in a small cafe in town, hand you a bouquet of flowers that he picked out based on how pretty they were. He picked the yellow carnations over white, the snapdragons with their different buds of flowers, and orange roses that stood out in the store. 

He can’t help but smile when your hands are pulled over your mouth, nor encourage you to show him your pretty face so he could admire you, too. He knew people were watching, especially when you walked out with your hand in his for a reason other than desire. 

His honesty, however, didn’t go as far as telling you that the love he felt for you would change. 

Hyunjin can’t help but spend each day at your side. Exhausting you like a trust with a purpose, making sure you understood that he liked you, not loved you, but felt towards you he felt for no others. You were who he turned to in darkness, you were who brought sunshine to rainy days and warmth to the coldest nights. 

“I could stay here forever,” he’d whisper against your skin, looking up to meet your eyes with a smile. He’d push the hair back from your face, admiring you for a second longer. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

You smile and shake your head, returning his touches by running your thumb over his bottom lip. “Why would I leave you, Hyunjin?”

He can’t answer your question without a lecture, so he always chooses not to. He’d keep his thoughts to himself. Though everyone knew deep down that a guilty conscience would lead others to ask the questions they wanted answered for themselves. Why would he leave you?

Why wouldn’t he love you?

Why couldn’t he love you?

“Because you’re scared,” Minho says to Hyunjin, passing him a can of sprite across his kitchen table. The younger is pouting, unsure of what he’s supposed to do. “You can’t tell her the truth because you’re worried what she will say.”

Hyunjin hums. Maybe Minho is right. “I want to tell her, but every time I try to my body freezes and I can’t talk. It’s like something doesn’t want me to tell her.”

“Then don’t tell her yet,” Minho suggests. 

“Won’t that make things worse?”

Minho shrugs, his expertise ending. “You told me before you confessed to her that you didn’t want to lie to her, so you either do love her and you tell her, or you don’t love her and you don’t tell her. Whatever you do, there’s a reason you don’t do the opposite.”

“So I’m not just nervous?” Hyunjin asks. He looks down to the unopened text on his phone and signs. “You don’t think I love her?”

“I can’t tell you if you love her yet. You’ll know yourself when you do. Just be honest with her.”

Hyunjin isn’t lying when he tries to tell Minho that that is his problem, though Minho thinks he means the love part and goes on a rant about how everyone can love someone and time will show the true feelings behind everything. 

And Hyunjin does care about you deeply, that has never ever changed. 

Because you always like your favourite song. Once it’s been played over and over, and you don’t listen to it for a while, you go back to it and remember the vocals or musical quirks that attracted you to it in the first place. 

But once you’ve moved on, that feeling never comes back. 

His favourite song doesn’t change, he just stops listening to it after a while. He stops the admiration, the tune in his head when there’s radio silence, the thoughts of it when he closes his eyes. 

It’s no longer sweet to him, and he’s no longer a slave to the thought of it. Of you. 

And as he finds him walking out in the cold nights as he finds something else to occupy his mind, he realises that he could never appreciate you for who, for all you truly were.

It was never a case of would he love you. 

Hyunjin could love you. He could open his heart to someone and trust that they could do the same, yet he never had it in him to even approach the topic with a clear head. 

A walk down the path with the bitter wind rattling his bones, the light shining down on him as tears fell down his cheeks and froze the skin beneath, much like the ice that crunched under his feet with each step. 

You filled his world with the colours that radiated from you, painting the skies blue and orange; the days yellow and punk; the nights black and purple. You made him see what was beautiful, yet he could never have seen it the way you did.

You were a rainbow in the dull world he built around him, but he was colourblind.

[ultraclops]

Y’all mind if I go on a tangent about Badge-A-Fire? Okay? Okay.

When I watched this ep for the first time...HOO BOY I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I WAS GETTING INTO, HOLY MOLY. I don't mean that in a bad way, I mean it in a "Holy shit why do I relate to this so much" way.

Just like Not Impressed, Small, Scared of Puppets and Adoradad, this ep does a WONDERFUL job explaining the effects of childhood trauma. It also explains some of the symptoms of ADHD. (Note: these symptoms occur in autism too, but since I have ADHD I'll just say ADHD.)

First of all, let's start with the Ultra Focus. At first it seems just like an ADHD thing, but there's a lot more to it.

Badgerclops describes it as a heightened state where he's so overwhelmed by his own thoughts (or "creative genius", as he so lovingly puts it) that he can't focus on anything else but getting his projects done. To me, it sounded like an extreme form of hyperfixation, combined with the usual racing thoughts that come with ADHD. On top of that, he literally can't remember anything that occurs when he enters Ultra Focus. Short-term memory impairment is extremely common in people with ADHD, depression, anxiety, etc. For example, there's been a few times I've drawn/written something down and have no idea that I did it the next day, and if you asked me what I did 2-3 days ago I definitely wouldn't be able to give you an accurate answer. This is especially true if I did something at night or really early in the morning - which is around the time Badgerclops' Ultra Focus kicks in.

About that last fact, you ever notice how Badgerclops randomly falls asleep at times? Since his Ultra Focus kicks in late at night or early in the morning, he might also have ADHD-induced insomnia, and his constant working on the projects is why he seems so lazy and tired during the day. I know for one I'm a night owl due to my ADHD.

Back on track. After telling all this to Mao Mao and Adorabat, Badgerclops says something important to the plot: "It's not my fault, and I don't think I should be criticized." From The Truth Stinks we already know about Badgerclops' sensitivity to personal criticism (known as Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria in ADHD), so it doesn't seem out of place. But as the episode progresses, he says that sentence and "Don’t criticize me!" over and over, growing increasingly desperate and frustrated each time he says it. If he can't remember it, it's not his fault, right? But why can't Mao Mao seem to understand?

Now onto the plot. All his inventions (sans the titular Badge-A-Fire Explosion) flood into town and cause a scene, so Mao Mao proceeds to insult them, calling them useless and weird. Eventually Badgerclops can't take it anymore and tries to snap back but fails miserably ("Are all of your inventions this weird?!" "YOU'RE WEIRD!"), then takes off in the opposite direction (after tripping over one of his own inventions first). Mao calling him a creep a couple seconds later certainly doesn't help.

When Mao Mao and Adorabat find Badgerclops again he's hiding in a dark alley with his legs drawn up, repeatedly trying to convince himself that it's not his fault, it's the Ultra Focus. Mao Mao proceeds to chew Badgerclops out for leaving, saying his projects "cause nothing but chaos" and asks why he would even make "those things" or think they're useful. Instead of yelling back at him, Badgerclops clutches at his head and starts trembling, gritting his teeth. From the position he's in and the intense background music, it seems like he's having a meltdown. Badgerclops eventually loses his composure and shouts "I SAID TO STOP CRITICIZING ME!" in a distressed tone, then starts bawling loudly into his arms. Upon realizing he's been a bit too harsh, Mao Mao goes to pat Badgerclops on the shoulder as a show of comfort - only for Badgerclops to promptly slap his arm away while screaming "NO!" in an incredibly pained voice. This seems unusual for Badgerclops as he is a very touchy-feely guy, but when someone is having a meltdown touching them may make it worse, even if they're normally very affectionate. I know from personal experience as I am a very affectionate person, but when I’m overstimulated I hate being touched against my will. I will come back to this scene later in this post, but for a brief second I'll step away from Badge-A-Fire to reference a scene in Boba-Chan I feel is relevant:

When Badgerclops goes to retrieve Mao Mao's shuriken from the tree, he accidentally yanks too hard, causing it to split in half. He lies to Mao Mao that "someone took (his) pointy thing and replaced it with a broken one!", which leads Mao Mao to say "Not again! Hold on, I'm coming!", presumably to attack whoever took his shuriken. Immediately Badgerclops' whole disposition changes - he starts sweating and whimpering, trying desperately to put the shuriken back together in a panic. I hypothesized he might have grown up in an abusive environment, where his parents constantly got onto him for breaking things, so Mao Mao's reaction might've triggered him.

Now back to Badge-A-Fire. Adorabat's timer buzzes and the trio finds themselves cornered by a giant mecha identical to Mecha Hossoraffasnakearang, which knocks them out and traps them inside a water ride designed by Badgerclops himself, seemingly a death trap. Mao Mao asks Badgerclops why he never told him about the Ultra Focus, and Badgerclops confesses:

As a child, he loved to come up with his own silly inventions. However, his parents constantly criticized and rejected his ideas, forcing him to fit into their mold. Their idea of normal. This is represented by a figure tearing young Badgerclops' drawing in half, then handing him a set of blueprints along with a toolbox. (Why his parents would give him a tool kit at like 5, I have no idea.) From this we can infer that Badgerclops was emotionally abused and neglected by his parents, which understandably would make him scared to share his ideas and thoughts with other people out of fear of rejection or criticism. On top of that, he was also bullied relentlessly by the other kids at his school, which would serve to amplify that fear. From personal experience, I was picked on by members of my family and some kids at school for my interests when I was younger (actually, my family still relentlessly picks on me for my interests as an adult) so I became a lot more secretive regarding my interests and would only indulge in them when I thought no one was paying attention.

He further explains that due to his fear of sharing his ideas, he repressed them so far into his mind that he would lose control of his own body and be compelled to act on his ideas - the origins of the Ultra Focus. This means Ultra Focus isn't just an extreme form of hyperfixation - it's probably a trauma reaction, one that Badgerclops probably had no method of coping with until he met Mao Mao. I have a feeling this is also why he giggles a lot when he's in Ultra Focus - since he was a child when it came to be, he'll probably act like a child.

I also bet this is why he reacted the way he did when Mao Mao chewed him out over his inventions - Mao Mao could've accidentally triggered him into having an emotional flashback to his parents criticizing his inventions, which is why he sounds so pained and didn't want Mao Mao to touch him. It could definitively be why he reacted negatively to Mao Mao insulting his inventions and blaming him in the first place.

Mao Mao & Adorabat console Badgerclops by confirming they actually liked his inventions, and he's so overwhelmed with joy he flat-out states he loves them. Abruptly, a cannon descends from the ceiling, presumably to kill them. Mao Mao wipes away Badgerclops' tears yet again and the trio hug, with Badgerclops saying his seemingly last words: "I'm finally around people who love and understand me...", which I feel speaks volumes about his life before meeting Mao Mao.

Fortunately the cannon was actually a cleverly designed camera and the ride wasn't a death trap at all, but actually a show of Badgerclops' appreciation towards Mao Mao & Adorabat (although he couldn't remember it). Mao Mao & Adorabat love it (okay Mao doesn't LOVE it since he gets splashed, but he liked it) and Badgerclops decides to fully embrace his creativity rather than repressing it, shown by him stating "I am a creative genius." in a happy tone instead of a serious one. At the end of the episode, Mao makes Badgerclops promise to never hide his creativity, which will probably help alleviate his Ultra Focus. I hope that in Season Two we'll see him get some sort of help - maybe therapy with Ol' Blue?

TL;DR: In Badge-A-Fire Explosion, BC is alluded to having ADHD or something similar (Manifesting in him hyperfixating on his inventions, having a poor memory, and reacting to his inventions being insulted as a personal attack) and PTSD caused by being emotionally abused by his parents (Manifesting in him becoming sensitive to being insulted/yelled at regarding his inventions [a potential trigger] as well as repressing his own thoughts and memories), both of which I think contributed to his Ultra Focus. Also everyone in this got damn family needs therapy.

Edit: I re-uploaded this onto Amino, with clips this time!!

[silverypurple-rosedlions]

Entry #357 - Him

Wen Junhui's Entry

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"Should we post this?..."

"Jun wanted this posted for his sake, no matter what... It's the least we can do for him,"

"Well, it was scheduled for today, and Jun stated he wanted it to be so... Alright. Have it posted."

━━━━━━☓━━━━━━

━━━━━━☓━━━━━━

I don't know why I'm writing this... Perhaps for closure on my mind? Most likely. But, perhaps, it's also to record thoughts and feelings that I might forget sometimes, needing a reminder later on. But, today was the day I received a gift. A proper goodbye, and a story that brought me to tears and to dream of things I'm not sure I'll ever get to have with him. But, it's nice to see that it could have been an option one day. To move in together, loving and cherishing each other... But, I guess I can only dream of it now since I'm not sure he'll come back. Or, if any of them will come back.

But, it happened when I was with Minghao and Jeonghan hyung. We were eating and talking together, just like usually. Minghao and I were talking in Chinese, while Jeonghan just smiled, now and then checking his phone to check on the members. Then, Jeonghan hyung looked at me with wide eyes, but then he smiled so bright at me. It astonished Minghao and I, both of us wanting to know what it was. Then he said: "Jun should have the benefit of seeing his gift someone has sent him,"

Of course, I smiled and laughed, wondering who would send me a gift. At first, I thought it was a specific, sweet and kind-hearted empress we had came close with, who checked in us whenever she could. Or maybe it was the kind and gentle koala, Felix, wanting to ensure I was fine. But when Jeonghan hyung handed me his phone and I saw what it was, and especially who it came from, I gave him back the phone, covered my hand over my mouth, then removed it, saying, "Are you playing a prank on me? Tell me right now." And, of course, Jeonghan hyung chuckled and shook his head, confirming that it was real. No hallucinations, none of the boys wouldn't dare to do a thing to me, and that it was from them despite him not reading it. So, I read it. And I read his last message to me.

You wouldn't believe the amount of tears I cried. Even thinking back has me shakily writing and crying. But it doesn't hurt like it used to. Not like when I used to cry every night, wondering what to do, how he was, and questioning countless things that made me so scared to get up. But after receiving it, being able to get his last message to me and receive the closure I desperately needed, I can finally accept it. I can accept that it wasn't me who drove him away, or, whatever bizzare thoughts had been created in this corrupted brain of mine.

However, it makes me reminisce about what we did together and what we had said. I remember, a memory that's becoming slightly foggy, when him and the boys came to assist us when the system had been breached. I remember how he came with everyone to help us, getting us all back together despite the gruesome fight that followed. But I remember how he soothed me, talking softly with him when my episode had occurred. I remember him hugging me, comforting me, and us laughing despite the situation when I had came up with the idea of us being awkwardly weird buddies. And after that, I wondered about him: What was he like? What was his story? His dreams? His likings and dislikes? What did he see in me? . . . What was that tight feeling in my chest whenever I thought about him?

Then, the more we talked, him and I, the tight pressure in my chest grew, but it wasn't unbearable. It wasn't uncomfortable. Almost, pleasant? My heart would race, and my cheeks would hurt because I would smile so much when he was around. But, I slowly tried to withdrawal back when he had grown attraction for someone else. I remember that. I was scared, and I didn't understand why it made me sad when I saw his post. The boys didn't notice me, and I don't blame them because I played it off and wished the best for him. I encouraged him, trying to cheer him up. Even though I didn't understand my own feelings, I knew that was in some sort of pain. But, I hoped, despite that pain, that his feelings would be reciprocated. But, in the end, later, I found out that he no longer had those feelings, and both were just friends.

But after that, I didn't look at him the same way. And, perhaps I never did after the incident at the base. However, I understood that I favored him from the others. Not like a mother who favored one child over the other, but, someone who adored him more, but still cared for the others equally. I recall the time I came into Jeonghan and Joshua hyungs' room, almost having a break down because I didn't understand. But, they comforted me and talked with me for hours until they made it clear: I liked Jeon Wonwoo. But I could never tell him that. Not that I didn't want to, but I wanted to get to know him more than I already did. Then, the rebrand happened. He was still the same person we knew, but, there was more to him now, and I didn't want to make things complicated because he had Hanahaki... A ghastly disease I've heard one too many times.

So, I waited for an opportunity when it was right and he had the time he needed, but, I couldn't. I remember how I'd sit there, staring at nothing as I questioned everything: Would he be okay to love a person who was psychotic, a mafia member whose killed dozens? Would he be frightened by me when my episodes started? What if I hurt him by accident? What if I was too late? He barely comes out, so maybe he doesn't or never will see me the same way as I do. And, most importantly, can I even provide him everything he'll ever need and want? Especially love? Will I be enough for him? I was slowly shattering myself with doubt, even when the others found out and encouraged me, but reminded me of other possibilities. And then I thought maybe I shouldn't try because her find someone better than me. Someone pure and healthy, both physically and mentally, sweet and kind. Someone who could offer more. Someone who wasn't me...

Then the entire thing happened. We talked about my crush situation, and I was running around screaming my head off as the boys came after me. But all I wanted to do was just fall somewhere when running, and just lay there, wondering what in the world I was doing. What was he thinking when he found out?... I remember that look on his face when they exposed me, just stern, looking at me and wanting to know who it was. I wasn't entirely sure why he'd suddenly drop his previous attitude. But, now and even after it, I knew why. But what followed afterward had terrified me. I wasn't told about it until I saw the post, but Wonwoo was having it. Hanahaki. And when I saw that it was black cosmos, I was stunned. I didn't know that much about Hanahaki, so, at first, I nearly started to despise the flowers because it was the very flower blossoming inside him. But I still wished him the best, and then... It happened. He confessed, catching me off guard. I remember bawling, the boys comforting me as I responded and told him I felt the same. And at that moment, I had never been more happier in my life when it was me he liked.

After that, we went on a date that was memorable, and I hope to never forget, not even a single detail of it. We had gone out to eat together, and it was the first time he saw my state. I was twitching, and because I was nervous, it increased it, making it hard for me to even eat and I nearly felt embarrassed, wondering if I was making it uncomfortable for him. Yet, he reassured me and helped me. Not once was he bothered by it. He was okay, and I was glad he was. It made me overjoyed that he was okay with me. From there, it was absolutely amazing for me. We went together, stole a cart and raced off to the playground nearby. And there, that became one of my favorite spots although it makes me anxious whenever I'm near a place that's meant for children, being that I'm not trusted to be around kids. But that day was not only labeled the greatest day of my life, and my first date, but also the day I had my first kiss with someone I loved above all things.

And it was the same day he gave me the moon bracelet, something I haven't taken off for ages since I got it... A beautiful white bracelet with a beautiful white stone, while he was the other, a beautiful dark blue that's nearly black. It's something I've treasured ever since, and something I will never lose despite me being clumsy time from time.

It's things like this that I look back towards, and sometimes, I wonder if I could have done more for him and me. But, I'm happy. I'm happy we at least got these opportunities with each other, and cherished each other for so long and even after he's left with the boys. Even though it hurt so much, so very much when he left without a word, I understood. It had to be done for their sake, especially their Admin, but I wish I could've done more. But, I can finally let it calm the storm inside me. I don't know if there will be a day he may return, but I do hope there is even though he told me not to hope too much. But if he ever does come back, all of them, I will never let go, and I promise that I'll do more, continuing my promise to love and cherish him forever. And even if he doesn't come back, I know he loves me dearly, as much as I love him. And that's enough for me. He's enough for me.

- Wen Junhui

💕// @ghoulxbaekhyun (Seok's love) @seventeen-chatbot Wonwoo (Jun's love)

Closest friends// @empress-jiaqi @kpop-shelter @yourlocal-babybear @yourlocal-babybear2 @julia-oc @shinhaneul-oc

💎// @singledad-coups @minghaostitch @decade-wonwoo @god-vernon @xdevilmingyuxx @princexjunhui @leejihoon-cb @van-gogh-minghao @/seventeen-chatbot

🥀// @aikihades @sophie-svt-13 @waitingwhispers60 @yangomangos @m00n-nim96 @moonlit-jaemin @time-for-confession @xash-axx @vampiremomo @mafia-chaeyoung @split-jiu @artsydahyun @princess-yeji @werewolf-sehun @incubuswooyoung @twiceland-saga @amazingspiderhan @mafia-choa @la-soleilmafia-cb @mafia-arin @floristluda @werebaek [DM for +/-]

[stickittothepan]

The Adult in the Mirror  TW: suicidal ideation

I’ve been suicidal all week. Belle knows this. My parents have treated me and my relationship with Belle horrendously. The pressure and stress they pile onto me daily has put me in the psych ward before, and that was traumatizing. College amid a pandemic has been an escape for me where it’s been a point of anxiety for others - but I guess it caught up with me this week. 

What Belle doesn’t know is that my closest friend on campus that isn’t Belle, Jeremy, probably saved my life tonight, and he didn’t even talk to me. 

A few nights ago Jeremy showed me the song “You Matter to Me” from Waitress, and, he told me that it was true through tears. All of it. I matter to him. I didn’t even look him in the eyes. Sure, my brain was ruminating on images of my own death too loud for me to properly hear him, but I still feel like a dick about it. I could’ve done something. 

Tonight my fingers picked out that song from my music app before I even knew what was happening. Before I knew that I was slipping back into that dark hell of a mindset. 

Usually I listen to songs on repeat several times, but I only listened to this one once. I couldn’t handle more. I was on the floor under my Christmas lights bawling by the time it was over. I cried til my guts hurt. 

Eventually I wandered over to my tissue box. It’s perched by the mirror, and after my sinuses began to clear my reflection caught my eye. I could’ve been blinded by the snot-soaked kleenexes, or my blotchy, puffy red cheeks, or the questions that have been swirling around my head every time I look in the mirror as of late. The questions that demand I admit I’m a fraud for experiencing with co/cos neopronouns. The questions that insist I’m greedy, or faking, or taking up too much space. 

But instead, I saw someone different than I normally do.

Co was an adult. 

Co knew what co wanted, and co wanted what was best for co.

And for the record, co didn’t look like someone I’d mess with when co went after what co wanted. 

I think I’m infatuated with co. I’m infatuated with the fact that co’s me. Infatuated with the idea that I can see myself as I should be seen even when my parents won’t. 

They don’t get to choose what I see. What I see is who I am. 

What they see is their mistake. 

Belle and I’s university is going remote for the two weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas break, like many others. But some students with special circumstances can stay on campus. My mother was being awful about “allowing” me to stay for the two weeks when we talked today, even though she was tame about “considering allowing” me to not go home for Thanksgiving break when we talked a few weeks ago. 

It didn’t occur to me until hours after the conversation (when Belle reminded me of the fact) that I’m an adult. I can make decisions about where I go on my own.  

I feel like screaming, but excitedly. Shouting, that’s the word.

I feel like shouting about the fact that I’m an adult, because that fact is mine, now. 

I can claim it. 

I don’t want to go to bed because I’m afraid I won’t remember this when I wake up. Or, at least, that I’ll have lost the adult me in my sleep. I want this to be mine forever. 

I mean, not the taxes and stuff. Not even really the adult part. That whole bit has a lot of sucky things. 

But the separateness. 

The adult in the mirror. 

The one who stands alone when others refuse to stand with co - but who stands with others in gladness when they stand with co or need someone to stand with them. 

Who writes cos own terms about who can stand with co. 

Who, when co doesn’t associate with someone, it’s because they don’t fit with cos own beliefs, not because co doesn’t fit in with their beliefs. Who refuses to water it down for others. Co will remain quiet to keep the peace when co wants to, but co will not be forced into silence. 

I don’t think co will be forced into anything, if co has cos way. 

Maybe one day writing the terms, picking the people, and being honest with coself will be a burden. 

But I hope co remembers the time that it was bliss. When it was utter freedom to choose. 

I hope co remembers it’s cos rights as a person. As an individual. As an adult. As a child of God. 

Co stands up straighter in the mirror when I remind co co’s an adult. An answer to the question that still lingers in my voice. 

“Adult?” I say to my reflection, more question mark in my tone than I’d like. Co straightens, shoulders squared, brow unfurrowed but mouth set firm. “Adult,” I see cos eyes say. 

I turn to the mirror on the other wall, ready to start my query over. But co can’t be stopped now; everything about co is confident now. Cos legs may not be long, but they are planted in place. Cos eyes may have dark circles around them, and cos hair may be oily, and cos face may be red from tears, but co shines through. Co knows who co is. 

“Adult,” co answers before I’ve asked, and a smile that reaches cos eyes for the first time all day appears. 

I hope that one day co will be me, and in the next thought I rejoice, because co already is. There’s no more waiting. I’m here. I’m an adult. I have been one for a year and a half. It’s my domain now. My choices. My standards. My identity. My life. My friends, my responsibilities, my future. 

Mine. 

No one can take that away. There will always be mirrors to remind me. Parents may try to take the mirrors away, but they’ll stick around. 

Car windows and shop displays can’t disappear overnight. 

Echoes of shitty college shower walls will still carry my voice’s music back to me. 

The smiles of friends will still be there - and perhaps those are the most important mirrors of all. 

The smiles that say “I see you.” The smiles that say “I love the way in which you exist.” The smiles that say “Please don’t change.” 

Then I’ll know. The parts of me that shone through the dark circles and the deadly thoughts tonight; that’s what they love. That’s what people cherish. That’s who I am. 

Because mirrors aren’t the only way to see co, to see me. I’ll always have co. I’ll always be an adult. I’ll always be an individual. I’ll always be here. Fully a writer, fully whatever-my-gender-is, fully pansexual, fully Christian, fully loving and nurturing and living for the way kids smile with their whole heart in their eyes. 

They can’t make me go away because I’m inconvenient. Because I spilled out of their box. 

Outgrowing my parents doesn’t mean I need to be pruned. 

It means I need a bigger garden than the ones that my parents are providing.

My roots won’t go away in the transfer, despite what my fears say. Some might be damaged, or even left behind. That is, the oldest ones, the ones most partial to my beginnings. 

But I’ll be okay. 

I’ll grow and flourish in a garden that has what I need. A garden with diversity and cultivated soil and more room for my roots to spread and mingle and find more depth than they ever had in that house pot. The little taste of what that garden can be has already made me a believer.

I’ll find that garden one day. 

I’ll make it to that day. 

I have to. For the adult in the mirror. 

Co seemed ready for more adulthood than one and a half years can afford. I can’t disappoint co. 

I can’t disappoint me. 

I’m tired of parents who tell me I’m not an adult. I’m tired of parents who tell me I’m not worth the effort. 

So, slowly, I will do what I did tonight. I will reassure co that I am an adult, and co will get stronger with each word. 

Then I will reassure myself that I’m worth it. 

I will reassure co that the garden is out there, and that I’m worth the hassle of replanting. That co isn’t greedy for needing more room or more sunlight. That co isn’t weak for being scared of the pruning clippers that have abused co in the past. 

Co will be strong enough to hear it then.

And when co is strong enough to hear it, I will be strong enough to believe it. 

I will see that day.

I will discover in my eyes the look of someone who knows they are enough, same as I discovered the look of an adult tonight. 

And the flower that blooms in adversity will bloom at last.

[franstastic-ideas]

Ok, so since a few are interested in this past paranormal experience of mine, I’ll go ahead and tell the story.

Now, this tale isn’t something I’ve shared with too many people, because let’s be honest here - what normal person is gonna listen to this and not think I’m a straight up coocoo bird, huh?

Luckily, nobody on this site is normal, so this is a perfect place to tell my personal experience to a bunch of sort-of strangers! 

The story begins one night early in my last semester of high school. My mom and I had argued about something and she sent me to bed still angry with me. I don’t even know what it was we argued about now in present time, but I do remember that I was bawling when I went to bed.

I cried for a few minutes, all curled up in a little ball - and that’s when it happened.

I felt the edge of the bed behind me dip down, as though someone were sitting there. Now, reasonably I thought that this was my mother, and that maybe she had come to calm me down having done so herself, but no, that wasn’t what was happening here.

...Because I could hear what was unmistakably my mother moving around in the kitchen, and at that time in our lives, it was just me and her living in this house. I was petrified, I couldn’t move a muscle or make the slightest sound at the realization that someone, or rather something, had gotten into our locked house and was currently directly next to me.

But then the figure began to shift. It... climbed onto the bed, settled under the covers, then moved closer towards me until my back was pressed up against a decidedly masculine chest. A strong arm wrapped around my middle and brought me closer, and I felt the figure bury his face in the crook of my neck; inhaling, then exhaling, letting out a quiet and soft ‘mmmm’, as if satisfied.

Now, normally, anyone who would find themselves in this situation would have been terrified out of their wits, but for some reason that still to this day lies far beyond my understanding, I wasn’t afraid. No, what I felt at that moment was the entire opposite - I felt comfortable, secure. More content with myself and the rest of the world than I could ever remember being since a long, long while.

I still couldn’t turn around, though. I wish I could have, so maybe I could have seen this apparition’s face, but then again, maybe I would have seen nothing and the feeling of him being wrapped around me would have disappeared, and I didn’t want that.

I tried to stay awake as long as I could - I think I fought off sleep for five minutes, but when his other hand started playing with my hair, I was a goner.

I woke up the next morning, and the warmth next to me was gone.

Now, I understand that this might not sound like a paranormal experience, because how can I be sure that it was something not-of-this-world and not a man that had broken into our house?

Well, to begin with, there was absolutely no possible way that a man could have gotten into my room without passing my mother first. It’s a one-way destination, and no one, especially not a man of that size, could have hidden in the closet - because not even a small child could fit in there with all the stuff I have crammed into it. And then there was the overwhelming sensation that this wasn’t something human that I experienced while in the arms of this entity, no matter how accurate it was that his embrace simulated an actual human man’s (not that I would know... but still.)

This was the first and only time such a thing has happened. And remarkably, I find it incredibly unfortunate and disappointing that repeats of the incident haven’t occurred.

To be honest, before that night, I never really cared that much about physical intimacy or feelings of closeness. But ever since then, there have been periods where I’ve craved to be subjected to that sort of gentle touch again, like a man dying of dehydration craves water.

So, to summarize - I had a fight with my mom, went to bed crying, and then a male spirit who was apparently summoned by my bawling decided the best course of action to take was to slip under the covers next to me, get cozy, and spoon me to sleep.

...Honestly, I really wouldn’t blame any of you if you decided I was a straight up coocoo bird after hearing this one, either.